


Vindicating a Man of Consequence: Earning her Hand (VMC II)

by LainaLee



Series: Vindicating a Man of Consequence [2]
Category: AUSTEN Jane - Works, Pride and Prejudice & Related Fandoms, Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: Autism Spectrum, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/M, Regency
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:27:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 100,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27536020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LainaLee/pseuds/LainaLee
Summary: Sequel to VMC I. Despite Darcy's autism, Elizabeth accepted his proposal but they will face new challenges before they can marry. While the couple has help from Georgiana and Bingley (whose family is adjusting to his decision to return to the world of trade), Darcy must still win over the Gardiners (as he wishes to continue courting Elizabeth while she is in town). He must also convince Mr. Bennet to grant his permission for the marriage despite opposition from Darcy's uncle, the Earl.The Earl has the means and determination to get his way, and those plans involve Georgiana. Can Darcy count on the Colonel (Edwin) to help him protect Georgiana? Whose side is Edwin really on?Does someone from the Earl's past hold the key to stopping the Earl from ruining everything Darcy has worked so hard to achieve or will Darcy ultimately have to stand alone?And what of George Wickham? What havoc will he cause and will he ever get what he deserves?
Relationships: Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy, Mr. Bennet/Mrs. Bennet (Pride and Prejudice), William Collins/Charlotte Lucas
Series: Vindicating a Man of Consequence [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2005231
Comments: 86
Kudos: 78





	1. Prologue: The Earl of – : A Most Alarming Report

**Author's Note:**

> As with VMC I, this story is primarily from Darcy's POV but there will be occasional interludes in which a chapter comes from another person's POV, including the prologue.
> 
> FYI, this is a work in progress as I have a draft of this but am revising each chapter before I post it. Expect weekly updates.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Earl of Matlock expresses his displeasure at how his son, Edwin, has disappointed him.

When my middle son Edwin returned from Kent earlier than anticipated, I let his mother fuss over him and let none of my annoyance leak through. I prefer to save unpleasant conversations for when I am alone with my son. A wife should not be privy to such things.

I knew from Edwin's earlier letters that my nephew Darcy was being far less biddable than he should have been. Before Edwin returned, I thought it was still possible that he might be making progress, but his early return home was clear evidence that he had failed me.

I cannot abide failure because failure can only occur when there is a lack of strength and resolve. To think, that a child of my loins could not overcome the will of that defective and arrange things for the good of our family is insupportable. Edwin is weak, weak like my father. His weakness sets me on edge, like a cat whose fur is rubbed the wrong way. His failure was not to be borne and I was determined to see things set right even if I had to do it myself.

Later, after dinner, I spoke to Edwin about why he had left Rosings before Easter. He told me, his manner reminding me of a cowering dog wagging his tail even as he hesitates to approach his master for fear the master will kick him, "I have done my best to match Darcy with Anne." While Edwin's voice was strong, his shoulders were hunched in and his head bent down a bit.

I said nothing and waited. I knew he would attempt to explain, to justify his failure and I was more than willing to let him play the fool. Edwin swallowed, a gulp that made no sense in someone who is not drinking anything, and avoided my eyes as he said, "but Darcy is decidedly against such a match."

Then Edwin met my eyes as if to convince me of his sincerity; I knew it was a tactic and nothing more. He looked down again as he recounted, "I did all I could to make him see reason, but he was determined, and I believe him when he says he shall never wed her."

"Your _belief_ is unimportant Edwin. When _I_ give an order, _I_ expect to be obeyed, for you to obtain results." I let my disgust show as I explained, "I do not understand how _my_ son, a cavalry Colonel, can be so feeble in his efforts, so ineffective. If your general told you to take a hill, would you scurry back and report, 'I believe it can't be done, so I returned to camp'?"

I purposely spoke in an effeminate tone when mimicking his words. Although this was not the first occasion in which I had spoken in such a voice to shame him, a light blush dusted Edwin's face before he hung his head.

Edwin knew better than to challenge me, more is the pity, so I continued. "But I forget myself, _you_ only reached that exalted position because _I_ paid for it. Still from all reports you were courageous enough in the saddle, perhaps the fear of getting lashed for disobedience made you at least feign bravery."

Edwin looked up then and I saw a hint of anger in his eyes, but he said nothing in his own defense. Then the anger vanished before he could put it to good use and show me the fire that would prove he was my true son. Instead, he ignored my taunting, made not even the barest effort to defend himself.

"What you might not anticipate . . ." Edwin paused, twisted his lips and I was uncertain as to whether he was amending his thoughts, editing out something he did not want me to know, or if just being in my presence when I was angry left him flummoxed. "Darcy continues to improve. When I saw them together, the mismatch between them was most evident. I understand why Darcy does not wish to marry Anne; she may have the body of a woman, but she is very child-like. I cannot imagine many who would take joy in sharing relations with her."

"Did I ask what you thought?" I yelled. "That was the point entirely. Surely you spoke to him about ending the contamination in his line, striking out the flaw by not having children. The noble thing would be to marry her and do nothing that would cause stress to her weak heart."

Edwin nodded, "I did. I spoke of both things. He was unmoved."

"Oh, I see," I responded and see I did. But I kept the knowledge to myself and did not share my suspicion that Darcy must have someone else in mind as his bride.

Edwin pulled back further and said nothing. He was protecting Darcy; I was almost certain of it. I felt the smallest bit of grudging respect for him that he would assert himself enough to not tell me. This led to a momentary stab of remorse in seeing how my son feared me, but still I pushed, hoping that someday I would make a man of him.

I spoke very quietly but intensely. "Edwin, I am disappointed in you. When Darcy returns to town, I expect you to bring him around to our way of thinking. I would rather have him convinced that marrying Anne and having no heirs is simply the right thing to do, rather than to have to force his hand.

"Listen to me and listen to me well. We will not lose Rosings and Pemberley; they belong to the Fitzwilliams. Although Darcy cannot be declared incompetent, his father and his uncle the judge saw to that, if he will not marry Anne, he will not marry at all!"

Edwin said nothing. I longed to hear him talk back, to hear him truly challenge me, to prove that he has cods and is a stallion and not a gelding.

Finally, when I was certain he planned to remain silent, I told him, "Son, if you cannot get the job done, I shall simply have to handle things myself." I left unsaid the fact that there would be consequences for his failure. While Edwin had no aptitude for school, he is intelligent enough to not need everything spelled out for him.

I let him think about how I might handle it before I commented, "Georgiana nearly old enough to wed, is she not?"

Edwin blanched. He really is a ninny. He told me, "She is only sixteen and not yet out."

"Yes, I know." I told him. I said nothing further; there was no need. Perhaps I had found the leverage I required to adequately motivate my son.

As for me, I was in no hurry to make decisions. I had no wish to decide what would be best to do without having all the needed information. There would be time for me to find out more, to make plans, after Darcy returned to London.


	2. Sharing My Good Fortune

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy tells Georgiana about his successful proposal, Anne asks to go to London and Lady Catherine seeks Darcy's advice.

When I arrived back at Rosings I knew my first responsibility was to get clean, so as much as I wanted to speak with Georgiana, it would have to wait. As soon as I entered Rosings by the back door, I sent a footman to find Jeffrey and stood there awaiting him. He had the unfortunate task of removing my boots and wiping loose mud from my person so I would make less of a mess as I walked up to my guest room. Then it took the better part of two hours to bathe, dress, locate my sister and arrive at the library.

When Georgiana and I were finally alone she smiled, making her skirts swirl, and said, "I know what you want to tell me, Brother, but I will let you say the words and tell me how it came to pass."

"Can you really know? How can that be possible?" I asked, curious. I thought unlikely that she could guess.

"I would be surprised if the whole of Rosings does not know in the next hour or two. I have already heard from my maid that you arrived covered with mud but sporting the biggest smile she has ever seen on your face. Even she, who does not know you well, guessed that you had called on your lady love and been accepted."

"That I have indeed," I confirmed. I felt my face stretching in a smile, delighted to share my happiness with my beloved sister.

"Oh Brother, it is all I have wanted for you." Georgiana embraced me for a long moment. When she released me, she grabbed my hand and squeezed it. I could not help but compare how different my sister's embrace and holding of my hand felt compared Miss Elizabeth's. The gestures might be similar, but the feelings they evoked were entirely different.

Georgiana demanded, "Tell me, how exactly did it occur?"

I did not know why, but in imagining telling Georgiana I had never considered just what I should share. I wondered, should I tell my sister of the kisses? How we held each other? I did not want her to think it proper to kiss and embrace a man before she was engaged. I was not sure I wanted her to do it even then, perhaps they should refrain from all but holding hands until they were married.

Had she kissed George before I stopped their elopement? I had never asked; I was not sure I wanted to know. The important thing was that her virtue was secured, of that I had no doubt. When she found a worthy man, I supposed after they were engaged, they could exchange a few kisses, but nothing else.

I decided to be honest with her and told her all, though I condensed the kisses before and after into only two and did not describe them.

She laughed, a happy, carefree sound that recalled how she laughed when she was a young child, when I told her about wooing Miss Elizabeth behind a chicken coop, hidden from view by a hen house. "She must love you," she exclaimed, bouncing slightly, "which makes all else unimportant. Can you imagine anyone else, say Miss Bingley, accepting you in such a setting?"

"No, I cannot," I responded, "but I also cannot imagine asking anyone else. She is who God must have arranged before time began to be my wife."

"It is truly wonderful, the very best of news." Georgiana's smile faded. "Having seen the love you share, I cannot understand how I ever contemplated eloping with George."

I did not like to see how troubled she was and sought to reassure her. "You were young and still grieving mother's death. Wickham offered his affections when your own brother was occupied and distant. Please forgive me for that, Georgiana."

"There is nothing to forgive, Brother, I should have stayed at Pemberley with you instead of seeking respite at the seaside. Only God's providence in bringing you hither saved me from a lifetime of unhappiness, bound to that bounder." She wiped a few tears away, sniffed and then smiled brightly, asking, "Who else will you tell?"

"No one here. We agreed to make no formal announcement until her father has granted me her hand, but I plan to tell Bingley when we arrive in London, which may not be until Monday."

"Yes, the mud is rather bad, is it not, Brother, unless you managed to dry it all up on yourself and your horse." I was glad to hear her lighter tone. My sister is ever changeable in her moods.

"I rather think there is enough to cover thousands of men and horses between here and the parsonage," I jested. "Do you think that truly everyone will know? Miss Elizabeth is most concerned that Mr. Collins might inform her father before I have the chance to ask for her hand."

Georgiana considered, "Well in this respect the mud is likely in your favor, as the Rosings servants can have little reason to interact with those at the parsonage before we leave whether it be on the morrow or Monday. Yet if we remain on Sunday, surely then they will gossip before or after the service, but whether that will then get back to Mr. Collins I cannot say. However, I wonder what he and the parsonage servants may have spied as you escorted Miss Elizabeth around the grounds."

I tried to recall what anyone could have seen if looking out the windows. Would anyone have noticed how long we were behind the chicken coop? Perhaps not, but walking for pleasure in those conditions, the fact that I had ridden my horse there, and all the mud upon her dress would have been notable by all. However, the Collinses had few servants so perhaps they were all occupied while we walked.

Although I had heard that Mr. Collins often watched the lane to see who was coming to the parsonage, I had not seen him. I recalled how Mrs. Collins almost whispered in greeting me; undoubtedly she is who I had to thank for preventing the notice of Mr. Collins. If we were fortunate, he had not seen any of our interaction.

I wondered what had occurred when Miss Elizabeth was back inside the parsonage. Was she circumspect about her activities? Had Mr. Collins seen all the mud on her dress? There was nothing to be done about these matters now.

"I will do my best not to think about such things," I responded. "I have never been so happy and will not let imagined future difficulties spoil it. And how shall you like to gain her as a sister?"

"Miss Elizabeth will be a very dear sister indeed. She has proven her worth by the happiness she has given you and her willingness to help Anne. She is already my bosom friend. Is the rest of her family as nice as she?"

I spent the next half hour acquainting Georgiana with all I knew about the Bennets but as for the Gardiners, there was little I could tell her besides, "They are in trade and Bingley gave a favorable report of them. Too, Miss Elizabeth said I would like them."

Georgiana is often wise beyond her years and very sensible. She commented, "As the Gardiners will be chaperoning Miss Elizabeth, it would be well if we could find out as much about them from Miss Elizabeth as possible."

I frowned then, worrying about how they would see me; certainly, my consequence was such that they should welcome the match, but what if they did not?

Georgiana immediately comforted me. "Do not worry, Brother, getting to the point of asking her was the difficult part. Now that you are united in your efforts surely her relatives will pose no undue obstacle for you. Also, you shall have me with you. I will be a kind of Edwin, making the hard things easier, though not dictating to you what you should do."

"I shall be glad indeed for any assistance you will offer," I responded, "but now I need some time to myself."

She nodded. "I will leave you be in a minute." Then she squeezed my arm three times. "Have you told her yet what this means?"

"Oh, Georgiana, how brilliant you are. I have not, but what a wonderful thing this shall be for when we are in company! How glad I am that mother shared this secret with us." I could not wait to tell Miss Elizabeth that each squeeze meant a word, "I ... love ... you."

That evening Lady Catherine confirmed what I already believed was certain, "Darcy, you and the ladies must certainly delay leaving until Monday, given the conditions."

Anne spoke up then, "Will Miss Elizabeth come play the piano again?"

Lady Catherine proclaimed, "I shall send a messenger tomorrow morning with a letter explaining the delay and if she is amenable, shall send the carriage to fetch her in the afternoon." I suspected my aunt was eager for Anne to receive as much instruction possible from Georgiana and Miss Elizabeth before our departure.

Saturday afternoon when Lady Catherine's carriage returned with Miss Elizabeth, I was determined to spend as much time possible in her presence. If our engagement had been known, perhaps I could have received a few moments alone with her, but as it was it appeared that the regular schedule would be adhered to. At least now that they were practicing on a pianoforte in a public part of the house, I could be in the room while they practiced.

Even our exchange of greetings was interrupted by Anne saying, "Come, come, see what I can do." She then proceeded to play a new song to Miss Elizabeth.

I watched the pianoforte lesson along with my aunt, Mrs. Jenkins and Mrs. Annesley. This time Miss Elizabeth instructed Anne. She was attempting to teach Anne to read the music. She prefaced her lesson with explaining, "Anne, if you know the notes, you may be able to hear music in her head without playing a single note."

Miss Elizabeth unfolded a vertical keyboard she had drawn, with the black keys shaded, with each white key matched to a line or space of the treble clef. Although she also had written down the names of the notes upon both keys and staff, she focused on helping Anne match the lines to the keys. She would tap on her paper on the portion of the music staff that corresponded to a key and Anne would tap on the actual key. She taught her a simple melody in this way. Besides the sound of the keys, no talking was involved.

I found her method clever indeed. As I admired what she was doing, I thought to myself, "That is my beloved who is so inventive and kind."

After just a few minutes of this, I watched as Anne began to complain softly, "Done with this." She seemed a bit frustrated and I wondered how the ladies would react. I was pleased to see that after Miss Elizabeth finished two more notes completing the phrase she stopped, praised Anne for working hard and asked Anne if she wanted a break.

Anne nodded and asked, "Can we spin?" Miss Elizabeth nodded. Before I knew it, Anne, Georgiana and Miss Elizabeth had grasped hands in a circle and whirled around together as young children do to rhymes. Anne laughed while my sister and Miss Elizabeth merely smiled at Anne's antics.

They spun again and again until Miss Elizabeth suddenly halted, pulled a hand away from my sister and bent forward a bit, cradling her temple. "I am sorry Miss de Bourgh, but I have to stop; I do not want to be sick." Anne let her hand go and Miss Elizabeth dropped awkwardly next to me on the other end of the sofa on which I was seated, while Anne and Georgiana spun some more.

While I certainly did not want her to be ill, I was pleased to have her by my side. "Are you alright, my darling?" I asked quietly, trusting that the focus of others would not be on us.

"I will be soon," she replied, "as soon as the spinning in my head stops. I am better now that I am sitting and you are near, though I still feel a bit unsteady still." Her eyes appeared unfocused and she was leaning her head back against the cushion.

I glanced around and confirmed that everyone was watching Anne and Georgiana spin and took advantage of their distraction to hold Miss Elizabeth's hand for a moment and whisper, "I am so happy that you said yes." Then I recalled what Georgiana had reminded me of on the previous evening and told her, "Every time I squeeze your hand three times, it means," squeeze "I" squeeze "love" squeeze "you."

Miss Elizabeth squeezed my hand three times in rapid succession, then let it go. Having acknowledged our love, we smiled at each other. I wished the whole room could vanish and I could take her back into my arms and simply hold her gently. Instead, when Anne and Georgiana finished spinning, she carefully rose and rejoined them.

During tea Lady Catherine was full of advice for our trip to London and asking Miss Elizabeth many questions about her relatives and how she planned to spend her time there. When there was a pause, I inquired, "Miss Elizabeth, may Georgiana and I call upon you at your relatives' house?"

Miss Elizabeth said, "It would be my great privilege, I am honored Mr. Darcy that you and Miss Darcy wish to recognize me in this manner."

Of course I already knew that Miss Elizabeth would consent, but it was gratifying to hear her answer, nevertheless, and I thought we both found great merriment in our exchange, knowing that my aunt did not know we were engaged.

I responded, "I am delighted to be given this privilege given the esteem my sister and I have for you, Miss Elizabeth." In my mind I substituted "love" for "esteem" and called her "my beloved." I continued, "I look forward to making the acquaintance of your family and hope to have the honor of escorting you all on an outing."

Lady Catherine tried to be helpful, "Darcy, you must take a box and escort the ladies to the theater. Or perhaps an outing to a museum might be desirable." She then went on to give detailed advice as to which options were best, which was a bit odd as it had been years since she had spent any time in London and Georgiana and I visited there annually.

I had nearly forgotten that Anne was present, as she was normally silent during tea, when I heard her ask, "Mama, can we see Miss Elizabeth in London, too?"

Lady Catherine seemed surprised, at least that was how I interpreted her eyes growing wide and eyebrows being raised, "Anne, we have no plans to visit London. Such a journey would be difficult for you and no arrangements have been made."

"Can we not go?" Anne asked again.

"I must think on that, Anne," Lady Catherine responded. Soon after, Miss Elizabeth departed.

Later that afternoon Lady Catherine found me while I was reading in the library. Nominally I was occupied with a book, but really, I had been daydreaming about Miss Elizabeth. As I slowly read a page, whose contents I was oblivious to, I imagined her curled up next to me on my favorite settee in Pemberley's library as my wife, both of us reading.

Perhaps I would have one arm around my wife. Perhaps she would swivel towards me and drape her skirted legs across my lap. It was not a daydream about passion but about all the little intimacies a married couple could share. I would remain reading but while my eyes stayed on my book, I would run one hand along her calves. I did not even know what they looked like, had barely gotten a glimpse at her ankles, but when we married her skirts would be as flower petals blooming and opening for me.

"Fitzwilliam," Lady Catherine said, clearing her throat. I arose as one does not remain seated while a woman is standing.

"I am in need of your counsel."

I tried my best to rearrange my mind's focus to her. Had I heard correctly that she wanted my advice? How astonishing! I did not recall ever hearing my aunt ask anyone for advice before. She was usually too busy providing authoritative advice of her own, delivering her opinion on every subject in a decisive manner. I was silent, which was apparently all the encouragement she needed.

Lady Catherine talked more plainly than usual. "I am not sure I should take Anne to London. I want her to enjoy her life and I am glad she is more interested in things. I am even glad she wants to further her friendship with Miss Bennet, especially as Mrs. Jenkinson, my coachman, my housekeeper and my personal maid Dawson have all informed me of their certainty that you have reached an understanding with Miss Bennet and she will become family."

I nodded but said nothing. I was surprised she had heard of this from so many as despite Georgiana's insight, I had doubted that others would be so quick to interpret my actions in this way.

"I am pleased for you," Lady Catherine said, nodding, once, twice, thrice. "She has proved herself worthy. Why ever did you not tell me?"

Before I could give any answer, she resumed talking. "I imagine you wish to keep it quiet until you ask her father, as I believe I recall she is not yet of age. Furthermore, Mr. Collins if he knew would tell everyone, would likely write Mr. Bennet about it, too."

I nodded.

"I hope you have shown Miss Bennet many forms of affection. Courting does not end when a woman consents to marry. You may bring her roses from my garden. Perhaps memorize lovely poems and recite them, like my Lewis did for me . . ."

Lady Catherine seated herself, so I sat down as well. "However, now that you have settled that, I still need your advice. I fear Anne's capacity to handle staying in a new place without upset. I have carefully guarded her so no one could ever disparage her. While she is known to be frail, everyone still views her as an upstanding lady. I fear her making a spectacle of herself, tarnishing her unblemished reputation and appearing odd just when she is on the cusp of improvement. She may not care about that now, but I do."

I nodded again.

"I do not want us visiting to interfere with you and Miss Bennet. It is time for you to become acquainted with her relatives. I do not feel that this is the right time to take Anne to London, but I do not want to fail her."

Lady Catherine looked sad but continued speaking without any intermission. "I worry that I have failed Anne her whole life. It is clear now that there is so much more I could have done for her. Perhaps she would be like you are now if I had helped her more, gotten her a better governess, not settled for Mrs. Jenkinson, not kept Mrs. Jenkinson on as her companion after Anne was too old to have a governess."

I shrugged.

"I know well the importance of a good governess; I am always urging those I know to employ one. I know Mrs. Jenkinson cares for my Anne, but has not known what to do with her and neither have I. I have been too focused on my estate, my tenants, and the welfare of unfortunates, rather than on my daughter. Their problems, for all their details, were so much easier to solve than my Anne's."

Lady Catherine paused for a moment, touching her hair with her hands as if to reassure herself that every hair was in place. This was my moment to say something, but I did not know what to say. I did not want to add to her guilt, but I could not absolve her either. It was not my place. I did not know how things would have turned out if she had done things differently.

Lady Catherine sighed and then continued, "At least Anne never went through what you did with Governess Hayes. My sister told me of her methods which your father must have approved. It was wrong to treat a child in such a way. My Lewis let me do as I wished with Anne, as she was just a daughter she was left to my care."

Finally, she addressed her real concern, "I do not wish to disappoint Anne. How can I tell her 'no' when she is finally asking me for the things she wants?"

I was not a parent. I had no answers. I had been an indulgent guardian with Georgiana and she had almost eloped with George Wickham. I shrugged.

"I must find a way, I suppose. If she rages, I will cope. Mayhap I will distract her with another short trip from her list, if I can promise her a trip to see your family at Pemberley a few months after your wedding."

I nodded my agreement.

"Oh, thank you Darcy for helping me solve everything! I shall see to it at once." She arose so I did likewise, and then she sauntered away, once again my commanding aunt.

I sat down but it was more difficult to enter my pleasant daydream again after that interruption. I wondered what struggles my mother had in raising me, and who she had to talk to about them.

Lady Catherine was apparently one such person she had shared with. I wondered if Lady Catherine had decisively given her advice and in ignorance still told my mother how everything was to be regulated regarding me, or if she had questioned my mother as to every detail, or simply let my mother talk. I hoped for my mother's sake that they had been true confidants. My mother deserved that.


	3. Secrets Revealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lady Catherine makes a surprise announcement at dinner, causing problems between Darcy and Elizabeth. Lady C. explains her reasoning and Darcy decides to write Elizabeth as there is no time to talk with her before they leave for London.

When I awoke on the Lord's day, I was pleased to see the weather remained fair. I was both excited and frightened about the idea of traveling to London. It was thrilling that on the morrow I would be responsible for conveying my love in all the luxury that my coach could offer, that when in each other's company we would finally be away from the limitations of having to politely attend to the conversations either my aunt or Mr. Collins insisted on having with us, which barely allowed for any discourse between myself and Miss Elizabeth. True, I would not have much conversational time with her except for our stops. Instead I might only spy on her through the coach's window as I rode.

And how much time I would be able to spend with her in London would be entirely in her aunt's and uncle's discretion, though Miss Elizabeth believed they would be generous it would necessarily mean being of a large party there. Additionally, I had other responsibilities to attend to while in London. I would need to see Edwin and his parents, Bingley and his sisters, attend to the concerns of my house and have my attorney draft a proposed marital settlement.

I am nothing if not meticulous and prepared. I have a strong need for order, a firm desire for organization, a need to have everything under my control. With all the uncertainties surrounding me, I was looking forward to being back in my own domain, at my house in town, where everyone knew how I wanted my meals prepared, my correspondence arranged.

At church we arrived a few minutes early and I was able to exchange pleasantries with Miss Elizabeth, Miss Lucas and Mrs. Collins, arranging myself so I was closest to my beloved in her blue dress, her coffee colored eyes bright. Although my focus was fixed upon her, I saw a parishioner to the left and behind her nudge another, and heard a low, "See, did I not tell you?"

I felt uncomfortable that we were under such observation, but I hoped that they were just speculating about our possible future connection and nothing more. Although Georgiana had hinted that there would be gossip, I worried that it might lead to disparagement of us.

However, I tried not to be too worried about any rumors. I saw that my aunt had drawn near to my beloved, speaking to her pleasantly and even patting her on the arm, a clear signal that Miss Elizabeth was approved of by her.

During the service, I wished that we could have sat near each other, but Lady Catherine had her usual pew and Mrs. Collins and her guests were in theirs. While Mr. Collins droned and lulled the elder parishioners into light naps, I was alert, focused as I was on praying and not his words. I offered up long prayers of thanksgiving to our Lord, praising his beneficence for arranging all between me and Miss Elizabeth. Of course, I also found time to request his mercy for our safe travels and his guiding hand to help me in meeting Miss Elizabeth's family.

I was also able to discretely admire Miss Elizabeth: the curve of her neck, the brightness in her eyes, her delicate hands. If it had been my home parish, and I had secured her father's permission, even now I could be waiting to hear the reading of our bans; of course I was glad that we did not have to have Mr. Collins preside over our nuptials. I hoped her family would not insist on a long engagement and that before summer began, I might bring her home to Pemberley. I realized then that I did not know how soon Miss Elizabeth wished to be married.

After church, Lady Catherine invited the whole group from the parsonage over for dinner, but dinner seemed so very long away. Under the drone of many conversations, I asked Miss Elizabeth, "May I call on you today?"

A respectable distance separated us, although my fingers in another set of my gloves itched to hold her hand, to give the three squeezes that would tell her how I felt. She told me, "Unfortunately, I do not think that would suit, Miss Lucas and I will be busy packing."

"Surely there are maids for that," I countered hopefully.

Miss Elizabeth shook her head, "There is just one maid of all trade, a valet for Mr. Collins and a cook. I am used to packing my own things, for my sisters and I all share the same maid."

I was left shaking my head at the divide between our stations. I had known that Longbourn was far smaller than my home, but I had not thought about how that meant they would have far fewer staff to attend them.

The first course of dinner appeared particularly sumptuous, with a large variety of dishes and the best porcelain plates before us. Lady Catherine was dressed even more finely than usual, wearing a heavily brocaded dress with a sapphire necklace and ostrich feathers gracing her turban. It seemed to me that Lady Catherine was trying to leave everyone with a memory of her magnificence and generosity.

Mr. Collins must have thought the same as he was praising her gown and table as we waited for Lady Catherine to signal that we could begin eating. In the interlude I took great pleasure in surreptitiously holding my darling's hand. My notions of why my aunt had dressed and presented dinner in such a way were overthrown when she rose, glass in hand, and loudly proclaimed. "This dinner is in honor of Darcy's and Miss Bennet's engagement."

I exchanged a glance with Miss Elizabeth as the other guests rose in our honor before returning my focus to Lady Catherine. Still I was very aware of my beloved's presence beside me, even more so when her hand momentarily tightened around mine.

I felt very uncomfortable with this unforeseen development, but more than feeling just my own distress, I was worried about Miss Elizabeth's reaction. I felt her release my hand and withdraw her own, which immediately called my attention back to looking at her once more. Glancing down, I saw that she was now tightly clasping her hands together on her lap. When my eyes darted to her face, I noted that in the interval her eyes had widened, and a blush now reddened her cheeks.

I was still looking at my beloved when I heard Mr. Collins loudly whispered to Mrs. Collins, "Why did not Mr. Darcy ask my permission as her closest male relative, her guardian during this visit?" In response Miss Elizabeth momentarily gritted her teeth before she blew out her breath and arranged her face in a more pleasant expression. Still, there was something tight and pinched about her mouth and her blush had only deepened, contrasting with the light color of her gown. Her hands held each other tighter than before; I wished she had been holding my hand for reassurance rather than just her own.

We listened as Lady Catherine continued her toast, her voice booming over Mr. Collins's continued words of complaint. "I am thrilled as Darcy's aunt to welcome Miss Bennet to our family, to gain another niece. Anne, now you will have another cousin. Georgiana you will gain a sister. I insist you all visit Rosings frequently, grace us with the pleasure of your company. You shall have the best of everything here, as you rightly deserve!"

As the other guests responded, "Here, here," I knew what was now expected, I was to rise and thank my aunt, yet it was the last thing I wished to do. She had greatly embarrassed us both. No one was supposed to know, or if they did, they were supposed to politely pretend that they did not know.

However, I bowed to tradition by rising along with Miss Elizabeth. Although I had extended a hand to help her up, she ignored it. While I had instinctively donned my face of neutrality, inside I was feeling anything but grateful as I spoke: "I thank you for the honor and your warm welcome of Miss Elizabeth Bennet. I must still obtain her father's permission before we can make our arrangement official, yet I am grateful to have your support." I gave a bow.

Miss Elizabeth also responded, "Your kindness to me Lady Catherine, knows no bounds. I receive your compliments with the gravity that they deserve." She curtseyed and then we took our seats once again.

Many loud congratulations were expressed to us then, from Mr. and Mrs. Collins, Mrs. Jenkinson and Mrs. Annesley. Mr. Collins was naturally the most verbose. I think he did not manage to eat more than a bite or two of his food before the first remove. Instead he loudly exclaimed how wonderful our news was (apparently no longer concerned that I had not asked him for his permission) with many flowery phrases addressed to my aunt, who kindly inclined her head at his words. I tried to occupy myself with eating the fine food, but I was distressed that now my love's hands were always above the table where I could not hold them.

Mr. Collins then turned his attention to Miss Elizabeth saying, "Do you know what an honor and elevation you are receiving? Indeed, I tried to offer you an honorable marriage within your own sphere, but perhaps you were right in hoping to attach a smarter match. I hope that you can conduct yourself appropriately in the role that Miss de Bourgh was most entitled to fulfill as her birthright."

I wanted to say something to defend her, but before I could, Georgiana began addressing herself to Miss Elizabeth, "I am delighted, truly delighted that you will be joining our family." I was pleased at her intervention, but simultaneously wished I had been the one to earn Miss Elizabeth's smile.

After all the congratulations had been given, it seemed to me that the rest of dinner was an awkward affair though Mrs. Collins tried valiantly to spread cheer, and my aunt delivered much advice on how Miss Lucas and Miss Elizabeth should pack their trunks. Miss Elizabeth avoided my glance as we ate, and even though she was beside me, she largely acted as if I were not there.

My previous happiness was crushed under my current distress. I tried to reason the matter out. Perhaps, Miss Elizabeth was angry with me for the unsolicited actions of my aunt. Perhaps she believed that I had broken her confidence. Perhaps the situation was simply uncomfortable to her.

I was prevented by the rules of society to tell her in that moment what I wanted to say. There was no opportunity to talk with her directly. We were supposed to be happy, but I knew neither of us were. I was heartily disheartened by this course of affairs.

I felt unwell, crushed down by a heavy burden. I believe if I had to stand in that moment, I would have been unable to gain my feet. Although I had dutifully filled her plate and my own on each remove, I chewed but mechanically, the conversation around me sounding more like crashing waves than words.

Soon I could not bear to eat another bite. I set down my fork and I let my hands lower to my lap, with the hand that was closest to her, resting on the edge of my seat near her, the smallest finger reaching out toward her, silently begging for her notice. The words kept repeating in my head in a sort of chant, "Hold my hand, hold my hand, hold my hand."

Perhaps Miss Elizabeth could sense my distress for just a few minutes before everyone began to rise from the table, she let her hand touch my wrist. My eyes snapped down to see her small fingers manacling my wrist, pressing down my arm hair, preventing me from touching her.

I did not understand the gesture, but feeling her skin touching mine, even if I could touch her in return, calmed me. Slowly Miss Elizabeth squeezed harder (not that it could hurt me) and I saw her knuckles become more prominent with the gesture, along with a greenish vein.

I held my breath and waited. She released a bit and then squeezed again. I sucked a bit of my inner lip in between my teeth and pressed down, not enough to bit or hurt, but to feel the pressure. Finally, I received a final squeeze. I felt that she was telling me that she was angry but that she still loved me. My breath huffed out, loud. I do not know if anyone noticed.

The rest of the evening Miss Elizabeth was far from my side, mostly with Anne and Georgiana (from what I could tell my sister made diligent efforts to direct my beloved closer toward me but was repeatedly rebuffed), but occasionally her eyes fell upon me. Anne and Georgiana played the pianoforte for us again, and Miss Elizabeth sat beside whoever was playing on the bench.

After the entertainments had been completed, everyone from the parsonage was sent home in my aunt's carriage and all the ladies beside my aunt had taken themselves to bed, Lady Catherine lingered, waiting for me. While I wanted to speak with my aunt alone, the hours to think about what she had done while trying to pretend that nothing was amiss had allowed my anger to simmer and grow, like the hunger of a man becomes more intense the longer he goes without eating. I wanted to yell and rage, to punch my fist through her sideboard, but knowing the servants might be listening I settled for a very intense whisper, "Why?"

"Oh Darcy," she whispered back, looking down for a moment while she straightened her skirts, turned her necklace so the middle sapphire was resting flat, and adjusted her feathers, "I did not want to have to do it, but announcing your engagement was necessary. Some of the gossip was turning ugly. Certainly, we have allies, but envy will always raise its ugly head and many like to prove that those of grand heritage are subject to depravities."

I had not expected to hear that, was astonished by what she had told me. My thoughts and emotions were in turmoil.

Lady Catherine continued, "Someone saw you kiss her and based on that others were claiming you did far more, took her virtue, trifled with her with no real intentions. I was worried for her reputation.

"Why do you think I forbade you from walking with her so far from Rosings with only your sister and told you to only court under my supervision? It was not so much that I was worried about your conduct, but the perception of that conduct."

"I see," was my only reply.

"That is why I needed to make a statement that all my servants would hear about to combat the rumors and show my endorsement of your engagement. Tomorrow I shall go to Hunsford and shop for a suitable wedding gift. Later in the week I shall call at some of the other great houses and tell how glad I am that you are marrying. There may still be talk, but my evident support will quell any malicious gossip."

I cleared my throat and choked out, "I thank you for doing your best to act in our best interest." I excused myself while I was already fleeing, saying "I shall retire now." I grumbled under my breath as I climbed the stairs.

When I reached the chamber, I was like a wild animal trapped in a cage, pacing back and forth. Minutes later, Jeffrey entered through the servant's door, took one look at me, and exited rapidly. He knew it would not do to disturb me when I was in this state, it would be rather like the proverbial poking of a bear.

While I was still very angry, logically I knew Lady Catherine did not deserve my censure, but my emotions did not understand about logic. I cast about for another target to blame, but the amorphous unknown gossiping persons could not be a focus for my wrath. I longed to know who and to act against them, even though this would have confirmed any rumors rather than dissipating them.

Finally, I calmed enough to sit down upon my bed, but I was certainly too agitated to call for Jeffrey to return or to try to sleep. It seemed inconceivable that what should have been a time for great happiness had turned so wrong.

"Who, who, who?" sounded in my mind and then like an echo coming back to me, I heard, "You, you, you." It took me a few moments to understand and then it pressed down on me, the knowledge, the certainty that I was myself to blame! That I was deserving of wrath, that I should be angry at myself for I had not safeguarded her, I had not controlled myself as a gentleman should. I should have never met her outside of supervised drawing rooms, I should have proposed to her by using my lips only to ask for her hand and not kissed her at all.

Some rational part of me reasoned that we would not have an understanding now if I had approached everything differently, but another part of me insisted that it would have been far better to court under supervision and reach an understanding later than to be under a cloud of suspicion. At that moment I wished to rend myself in two, but as that was not to be, my anger needed an object. I paced around my room, just wishing that there was something to destroy that Lady Catherine would not miss.

I considered the porcelain pitcher and the basin, with its delicate flower design, even going so far as to pick up the pitcher and feel its heft in my hands. It was a testament to the fact that I had not wholly lost control that I took a moment to consider the consequence of throwing it. I imagined a mighty crash, what was once whole being divided into many pieces. Although the seconds of destruction would be glorious, it would be over far too soon and leave an unseemly mess of sharp shards.

I imagined the word getting back to Miss Elizabeth; this would never do! Too, my aunt was blameless. I had enough rationality to wish to conceal whatever I destroyed and to decide that since I was responsible that something of mine should be destroyed as a kind of penance.

As Jeffrey had already packed most of our items before dinner, I opened up my trunk and examined my options. There were several books and many garments. Jeffrey had not yet packed my parchment and writing supplies. I decided to look for a garment that was due to be replaced. I spread each garment out, looking for an imperfection, then tossed it aside. Finally, I found some trousers that had a slight threadbare spot near the fall, nothing anyone else would have noticed, but with little effort my pen knife increased it.

Once I had a good-sized hole, I ripped the garment in two by grasping each side of the opening. There was something very enjoyable and freeing about rending the garment, hearing the distinctive sound it made, using my strength in that manner, concentrating hard on that physical action to the exclusion of all else. I repeated this action over and over, coming back to myself when those pants were nothing but a pile of rags.

I disposed of these fragments in my fire, one by one. The flaring of the flames and extra crackle was satisfying, too.

I was still troubled but calmer, more capable of rational thought. I had put Miss Elizabeth in a vulnerable position by failing to control my passion. It was my responsibility to conduct myself in a manner which would protect her. Even though she had welcomed my visits, my kisses, I should have exercised restraint. She as woman was the weaker vessel, prone from the beginning of the world as demonstrated by Eve's fall to act when tempted and to tempt her mate.

I felt the guilt that weighed upon me for acting wrongly and opening her up to the possibility of scorn and ridicule. I wondered how could I have thought I could handle my own life if this was what happened when I tried to do so.

Additionally, I imagined that Miss Elizabeth believed that I had not kept our secret, that I could not be trusted, that I had told the one person who would ensure that everyone knew what she wanted to remain private, everyone including Mr. Collins. She did not know that my aunt would not have just made such an announcement for her own amusement. How could she know that when I had thought the same?

If Miss Elizabeth continued under this misconception on the morrow, I could not imagine that my introduction to her aunt and uncle would go well. While I could not remedy my prior behavior, at least I might explain why Lady Catherine acted as she did. Therefore, it was imperative that I find a way to communicate with Miss Elizabeth, but I had no idea how to do so. While we would be stopping in Bromley at the Bell Inn to change horses and refresh ourselves, there would be too many people around for us to talk.

I did not want to undo any good my aunt's announcement had done by generating additional talk about the necessity of her doing so. I was worried that Miss Lucas would share that bit of gossip in Meryton perhaps even to the younger Bennet sisters. I could not discount that my servants had the extended time to become friendly with Rosings's staff and at least some of them were literate enough to exchange letters, especially with a bit of gossip to spread.

Explaining things to Miss Elizabeth would only be the start of correcting all that had gone wrong. Even after I had the opportunity to explain the matter and apologize for my earlier conduct that had made Lady Catherine's actions necessary, we would still need to deal with the consequences of Mr. Collins's probable letter to Mr. Bennet.

I alighted to my desk, noticing a poem I had copied upon my aunt's advice. I could not help but reflect on Miss Elizabeth's thoughts that writing a sonnet to one's love would drive away a thin inclination of love. However, she had agreed with me that it could be the food to feed a strong love. I was no poet, but I thought memorizing and reciting another's work to her might be charming. But perhaps there was another use for my paper.

Dared I, to include a poem as part of a love letter? Or at least as a part of a love letter, with perhaps an explanation, too? I could have Georgiana slip it to her while the ladies rode in the carriage. My plan formulated I spent half the night writing.

In the morning I met with Georgiana and told her, "I fear Miss Elizabeth is most upset that Lady Catherine learned of our understanding and told everyone at dinner. As you know, it was supposed to be kept quiet before I gain her father's permission. While I learned that it was kindly meant, to prevent any aspersions being cast upon our behavior, which unfortunately appears was observed and resulted in vicious talk, Miss Elizabeth does not know that."

Georgiana's eyes widened and she placed a hand upon her chest, "Oh, what shall I do Brother? How can I aid you in correcting her misapprehension? Do you wish me to speak to her about it while we ride in the carriage?"

"No, while Miss Lucas seems a kindly sort, I surely would not want her to learn about the rumors and misinterpret our behavior. I have prepared a letter for Miss Elizabeth that I hope you will give to her."

"I surely shall." She accepted my letter and tucked it in her reticule.

Moments later Lady Catherine and the rest appeared and after an early breakfast and quick adieus, we left. It had been decided that in leaving early in the day we could proceed at a leisurely pace, and I hoped for only a brief stop at the parsonage to collect Miss Elizabeth and Miss Lucas.

I feared, however, that Mr. Collins would delay us with his flowery speech. Increasingly, during my time in Kent when I was most tempted to be discourteous to Mr. Collins, I forced myself to recall how his correspondence benefited me by giving me the intelligence that Miss Elizabeth was visiting. I had a sense that my courting may have been met with far less success without this foreknowledge which caused me to bring my sister with me and enlist her assistance.

When the carriages stopped in the front drive before the parsonage, I alighted beside the front carriage, letting one of my outriders hold my mount's reins after I dismounted. I was just pondering whether there was any chance that I might be able collect our guests without the other ladies having to exit the carriage, when I saw the door of the parsonage cast open and Mr. Collins run out toward me. Following him more slowly, was his wife, her sister and lastly my beloved.

When Mr. Collins reached me, he gave a low bow and then began speaking, "I know I expressed my sentiments over dinner, but I fear that I have neglected to tell you how happy I am that you have found your bride. Let me tell you again, may you have joy in being married to my cousin. I am delighted that we shall be family!" He continued in a similar vein for many minutes and there was nothing I needed to do in response but give a simply nod now and then.

I hardly paid any heed to what Mr. Collins was saying as I looked past him to see Miss Elizabeth. When she first noticed my gaze, Miss Elizabeth gave a slight smile before her lips pressed together. Yet, I did not like the way in which she began fiddling with her reticule and avoiding my gaze.

As Mr. Collins droned on, I noticed that my sister had descended from her carriage and was making her way towards Miss Elizabeth and Mrs. Collins. I envied her when I saw the bright smile she exchanged with Miss Elizabeth. I wanted her smiles for myself, not that I begrudged my sister having an opportunity to enjoy her company, but I knew all too well that this was the only opportunity I would have to talk to her until we stopped at Bromley.

Soon enough I saw Miss Elizabeth exchanged her goodbyes with Mrs. Collins. Below Mr. Collins's blather, I heard a quick exchange between them. Miss Elizabeth said, "Please try to keep him from writing my father. It would not be seemly for him to hear from Mr. Collins before Mr. Darcy."

"I shall do my best, Eliza," Mrs. Collins replied, "but my husband can be rather headstrong when he believes he is right."

I interrupted Mr. Collins's praises to respond, "Mr. Collins, while I certainly appreciate all of your wishes as to our future felicity, my aunt was premature in making an announcement when I have yet to talk with Mr. Bennet. Please give me the courtesy of speaking to him myself before you write to him about the matter. I am sure this is a matter on which Lady Catherine and I agree."

Mr. Collins inclined his head slightly and I was not sure if this was an agreement or simply an acknowledgment, but then he began to address Miss Elizabeth and laud Lady Catherine's kindness to her. "Surely, cousin, you wish to acknowledge the particular notice Lady Catherine gave you, and to send your kindest regards to both her and Miss de Bourgh. When I think of her compliment of hosting you repeatedly for tea and allowing you the honor of practicing with Miss Darcy, and to even host a dinner in honor of your engagement, why such condescension was a particular honor, but I dare say that it was also an acknowledgment of me."

"I would be much obliged," Miss Elizabeth told him, the lilt to her voice and tilt of her head made me believe that she was somewhat amused by his comments.

Mrs. Collins commented, "Mr. Collins, I think it only best if you carry on their compliments immediately."

"Yes, indeed Mrs. Collins," he responded, straightening his waistcoat over his rounded middle, "I should surely do that now. She is sure to be needing company now that her niece and nephew are departing. Thank you once again, Mr. Darcy for visiting our humble abode and taking on the duty of escorting my cousin and my sister to London." I had barely replied before he began walking off toward Rosings, pausing several times to turn back to me and bow.

I felt more at ease once he was gone and I wager that the ladies felt the same. I dearly wished to exchange a few words with my beloved, to gain reassurance that she was less upset today, that all would be well between us. But I saw no way to talk about what I desired most. I would have to depend, instead, on the letter that would be given to her via Georgiana. After a few frustrating moments of saying little more than, "I trust you rested well Miss Elizabeth" and her response of "Well enough, considering the circumstances," I proposed that we depart. We had delayed far longer than I anticipated, and I was anxious to be gone.

After I thanked Mrs. Collins for her hospitality, I requested that the ladies say their final goodbyes. As Mr. Collins was no longer present, the ladies were quick with their last adieus. I glanced over and saw that the ladies' trunks had already been secured. The outriders were waiting patiently while their horses grazed at the bit of grass nearby.

Soon enough I was helping the ladies into the carriage. Miss Elizabeth was the last one in. I extended my hand, hoping to have time to give her those three special squeezes. She paused a moment, bit her lip and instead of presenting her hand began sorting through her reticule. I noticed that her hands were shaking as I heard a crunching sound. Then she pulled out some stained leather and extended it toward me.

It took me a moment to recognized it was one of my gloves. She was holding it gingerly on the wrist end, with the fingers dangling down. When I grabbed at it, it felt oddly full and it seemed to me that either the leather was very stiff from having been washed and dried, or there was something contained with in it.

"I found it outside," she told me. "I am sorry it is damaged."

I gave a nod. Then she extended her now empty hand and I assisted her to enter the carriage. It was only after I closed the door after her that I realized I had forgotten to squeeze her hand. The appearance of the glove had flummoxed me.

I walked over to my horse and when I was by his side and my hands were well concealed from view, I took a closer look at the glove. Memories flooded through me and I staggered slightly, remembering pulling off my gloves after I caught myself with this one in the mud and all the events that followed leading to the acceptance of my proposal. I then tilted the glove to look in it, to investigate what made it seem thick and caused it to crunch. I spied a thick square of folded parchment inside it.

Glancing around once more to make sure no one could see me, I pulled that piece of parchment out, unfolded it (noting it now had creases forming nine boxes) and quickly read the note that was written in a graceful looping hand. It read:

_Dear F.D.,_

_Please forgive my brusque manner yesterday evening. I was overwrought at the idea that you shared what was meant to be kept private for now. However, afterwards, my friend explained why she believed our hostess acted as she did, and I was pierced with guilt over how I treated you. Even without her explanation, I am certain I would not have remained angry for long._

_My regard remains unchanged._

_E.B._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do you like the start of this sequel? How eager are you to read more?


	4. Love Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth receives Darcy's letter in which explains Lady Catherine's actions, how he has failed Elizabeth, and expresses words of love. They arrive in London and Darcy receives a letter from Elizabeth in response.

I was well reassured by Miss Elizabeth’s letter and tucked it and the glove securely on my person. As we rode, I wondered how she would react to my letter:

_Rosings, 8 o'clock_

_Dearest Miss Elizabeth,_

_With your receipt of this letter I must express my sentiments that you having accepted my offer has been the most extraordinary event of my life thus far, which can only be exceeded by the day our marriage commences and us welcoming our first child. I dwell on these wishes because I desire for you to understand the depth of my feelings and to humble myself for being the cause of anything detrimental to you._

_The happiness of the both of us, from the formation of our bond, gives me a little freedom I believe to bend propriety by addressing you thus and demanding your attention. I know you will give it freely and provide me with justice._

_Last night I believe you understood me to have committed one offense against you, when in fact I have committed another. The first is that regardless of your sentiments, I revealed our engagement to Lady Catherine after we had only agreed to tell a few who could be counted on to exercise their discretion, namely while in Kent my sister and your friend - and the other, which I truly did commit was that I had, in defiance of honor, by my reckless actions before and after my proposal, exposed you to gossip of a ruinous nature._

_\- Willfully and wantonly to have acted as I did when you were depending on me to uphold the bounds of propriety was a depravity, to which the separation of me from the vow of confidentiality which was only to last a few days or weeks could bear no comparison. But the severity of the blame, as I judged from your expression of last night, that you appeared to so liberally bestow upon me respecting revealing our engagement to my aunt and which should greet the later circumstance when known by you, I shall hope to be in the future secured, when the following account of my actions and motives (as well as those of my aunt) has been read. - If, in the explanation of them which is due to myself, I am under the necessity of relating the most tender of feelings toward you in writing, I express no sorrow. - The necessity must be obeyed._

_\- I had not been long back at Rosings on Friday, before I learned, in common with others, that my preference for yourself, had been noted by all. Over the past few weeks, the servants at Rosings as well as Georgiana's personal maid had observed a partiality from me never witnessed before, and then my conduct of riding out to see you and returning muddy but extraordinarily happy had given rise to a general expectation that I had proposed to you and been accepted. Georgiana spoke of it before I had even revealed what I wanted to talk to her about._

_Though I told no one but Georgiana about my proposal and acceptance, and she agreed to keep silent about it, she was correct in her supposition that many suspected we had reached an understanding. Saturday evening Lady Catherine told me that she had been informed by no less than four members of her household and staff that we were engaged. I acknowledged the truth of it but gave no details and she discussed how pleased she was at our upcoming union and gave me advice in showing you proper affection._

_It cannot have escaped your attention that when we attended church there was a flurry of attention paid to us when we talked. At the time I did my best not to be bothered, believing that the same gossip Georgiana and Lady Catherine had remarked upon was simply being further spread._

_I had no foreknowledge that Lady Catherine planned to make an announcement, or that her invitation to your party was for that purpose. I found her officiousness in making an announcement without my permission very distressing, but worse than that was seeing how you reacted. When I most wished to offer you any comfort I could, you withdrew. I do not blame you for this, but I feared you regretted accepting me._

_Sunday evening, I was most anxious to speak to Lady Catherine about why she had taken such a step and overthrown our plans of discretion until I formally secured your hand. I waited for the rest of the household to be abed, so that I might have the opportunity to speak to her alone._

_Lady Catherine told me that someone from the parsonage saw us kissing. Apparently, based on that report when no announcement of betrothal was forthcoming, speculation arose that I was merely trifling with you. Certainly no one who knows me or my family would expect I would behave in such a despicable way, but still, Lady Catherine felt it necessary to counteract this rumor by bringing the full force of her approval to bear on our engagement. She felt this could most easily be accomplished by openly acknowledging her pleasure in welcoming you to our family, first in front of all her footmen and the other staff at Rosings, and then spreading the happy tidings when visiting prominent families and shopping in Hunsford._

_While Lady Catherine’s actions may certainly create difficulties for us_ _vis_ -à- _vis_ _Mr. Collins and any letter he might send to your father, they were kindly done. Furthermore, it would be quite remarkable if any rumor escaped Mr. Collins’s attention over the next several days, which could have resulted in a far worse letter. As much as I dislike my aunt's presumption that she knew best, if she wounded your feelings by announcing our engagement in her toast, it was unknowingly done; and the motives which governed her actions were naturally quite sufficient._

_\- With respect to that other, more weighty self-accusation I have, of injuring your reputation through my conduct, I must simply acknowledge my error and beg your forgiveness. Darling, having your regard be so liberally bestowed upon me was all I could wish for, yet my extravagance at expressing my feelings in a physical manner where they did not escape observation in that unguarded moment is abhorrent. Although I delighted in our kisses, I should have refused to bestow them and resisted every repetition of them to prevent your abuse to others. While gratified that your affectionate heart wished to express your loving regard for me in the process of consenting to an engagement is more than understandable, I should have held myself to a different standard and acknowledged the feelings we share in a manner which prevented any public exposure. I hope that you can forgive me._

_This, my most beloved Miss Elizabeth, is a faithful narrative of the two matters. You will, I hope, acquit Lady Catherine and me of acting cruelly to yourself in the announcement of our engagement now that you understand why she acted and that it was not my doing. You may possibly wonder why none of this was told you last night. But at that time, I did not know the whole of it. Additionally, nothing could or ought to be revealed in the presence of servants. I shall endeavor to have Georgiana put this letter in your hands in the course of the morning. I have enclosed an additional sheet with a poem and some sentiments of my love that you may read to the other ladies to aid you in subterfuge if you find the need to substitute another message for what this missive contains. I will only add, you have my devotion and love._

_Fitzwilliam Darcy_

Then, there was also the love letter I wrote, should she wish to share something else besides my poem with the other ladies. I had meant to only pen a few lines, but once I began writing, so much began pouring out of me.

_My Beloved Lizzy,_

_How well those words look upon the page! May I be so bold as to call you by the shorted appellation I have heard your sister and family use and pair it with words of adoration? Certainly, it is a liberty, but I cannot help but think you will grant it to me, for we are engaged! What a marvelous word “engaged” is, only exceeded by the words “Mrs. Darcy” when they will be applied to you, and the phrase “married to my love.”_

_For months now, I have known that you were the only woman I wished to court and marry. Who could resist a debate with you? What man could not be drawn to the sparkle in your uncommonly fine eyes, the sway of your skirts, the slightly saucy smile you bestow when you know you are right? I watched you walk so many times: around the parlor at Netherfield, along its outdoor paths, in Meryton when present at the same entertainments, even along the Netherfield ballroom floor. I watched how you brought joy wherever you went, how you made everything sharper and brighter, like the spark that leads to a flame._

_For much of that time, I had no real hope of earning your regard. I had not the least notion of how to do it. Many times, I despaired in feeling my fate of future loneliness, living at Pemberley with naught but servants, for someday my sister will marry. While I considered it my eventual duty to enter into a marriage of convenience with someone of appropriate breeding if need be, likely we would have led separate lives after an heir was produced. I would have been even more alone._

_But then I found your ribbon. It was such a small thing, but it seemed a sign, a portent, that promised possibility, opportunity. I dared to think that there might be some small chance I could win your regard. In keeping that ribbon with me, it kept you always present in my mind._

_Darling, in Kent it was a privilege merely to be in your presence, to join you for a walk, to converse with you, to hear you play the piano forte, to see your burgeoning friendship with my sister, your kindness to my Cousin Anne. I dared then to truly hope, to dream beyond the next occasion when I would be in your presence. I treasured each occasion, stored up memories._

_But truly I had no real expectation God had planned us for each other, would smile on me so brightly, treat me so kindly as to allow me to gain your regard, your love, your hand. It is more than I could have ever deserved with my malady._

_Know that I will gladly endow you with all my worldly goods, give all that I have to you. It is not enough, not nearly as much as you deserve, for you have given me such joy, even in these last few days. You are the sun, and I am a sunflower._

_I know I will not be an easy man to be married to. I will not always understand what you are feeling, what you need. I will misinterpret, make suppositions that are wrong. You will have to tell me things that would be obvious to other people. I will need things ordered in particular ways, will need much time alone. Things that do not bother you or other people at all, may greatly frustrate me._

_But I will do my best to listen to you, to learn what makes you happy, to provide you with whatever will delight you. I will try my best to be the man that you deserve, even though I will fall short time and time again. When I fail you, please be patient with me. Know that you will always be my beloved, the one who holds my heart._

_Fitzwilliam Darcy_

Whereas before I received Miss Elizabeth’s note, I would have ridden consumed with anxiety about how she would respond to my letter, having received her note, I had every reassurance that all would be well. While naturally I had a certain curiosity about how she would respond to my missive, I was able to concentrate on riding, to take enjoyment in trying to avoid muddy spots, to let such physical activity release what frustration that still lingered.

Therefore, although I was well familiar with the ride to Bromley, it seemed as if the time in riding there went quickly. When we reached the Bell, I quickly handed off my horse and strode to the carriage side. No mere coachman should have the pleasure of assisting the ladies out.

When I first saw Miss Elizabeth's face, I was delighted to see how happy she seemed to see me, and I felt my face turn into a grin. Undoubtedly Georgiana had been successful in delivering my letter and it had been well received.

Miss Elizabeth lightly grabbed my hand to step down and gave it three quick squeezes before releasing it. My heart pounded in my chest. How this subtle sign of her continued devotion affected me!

I knew I must look a sight from the ride. Though the rain from a few days earlier had kept down the dust, I had all the effects from the physical exertion a ride normally entailed, along with the extra effort directing my mount to avoid the worst of the mud, and still was decorated with drying splatters. Once again, my appearance was hardly suitable to impress but with her it never seemed to matter.

"Mr. Darcy," Miss Elizabeth said, "I am glad to see you fared well on your ride."

"Miss Elizabeth, you also seem well. I am glad for the rocking carriage motion can have a deleterious effect on some." I had worried she might be one such, based on how she reacted after spinning with Anne, but she reassured me it had not troubled her at all. Out of politeness, I addressed pleasantries to the other ladies, but it was difficult to focus on any besides Miss Elizabeth.

I heard a titter from Miss Lucas, and turning in her direction, was addressed. "Oh Mr. Darcy, who knew you were so romantic, sending poetry to Eliza! Lydia and Kitty will be so impressed as they would not have thought you capable of such, though Mr. Collins long told them they were wrong. And to think you were courting all this time, why it must have begun before the Netherfield ball for you danced with her there!"

I blushed even while avoiding her gaze, for until then I had not recalled that Miss Elizabeth had likely shared that portion of the letter with the poem and my thoughts of affection. This was the most words I had ever heard from Miss Lucas since first seeing her again in Kent as she seemed terribly intimidated by Lady Catherine and no one could say much in front of her or Mr. Collins.

"Maria," Miss Elizabeth intervened, "remember not a word of this in London or when we return to Hertfordshire; proprieties must be observed until after Mr. Darcy speaks to my father."

"Oh, to have a secret engagement! It is like something from a circulating library novel. And to think you confided in me! I shall aid you as all friends must when the dastardly villain appears." Miss Lucas sighed deeply.

“It is not a secret engagement,” Miss Elizabeth clarified, “and there is no villain. It simply would not do to have my father hear of it before he had granted his permission, which he most certainly will do.”

I thought this would quell Miss Lucas, but she tittered once more, "I am so glad that all men are not like Mr. Collins. Charlotte told me he spoke to her of love when he proposed, but whatever he said must not have been all that impressive, or perhaps it was embarrassingly long-winded, for she never gave me particulars. I cannot imagine him quoting poetry.”

I could not imagine it, either. What would Mr. Collins be like if truly run away with his feelings?

Miss Lucas continued, blathering in a manner that reminded me of the youngest Miss Bennet. “Afterwards, in front of us at a family dinner, Mr. Collins attempted to strengthen Charlotte's regard by telling her all the particulars about the parsonage. He described it so well (and so many times after that) that I could picture exactly how everything was arranged, even the fender and the sideboard.

“But what I recall the most is that he took great pains to quote Lady Catherine’s instructions on the sort of woman he should marry and promised Charlotte that they would have frequent invitations to the great house, would have much intercourse with the Right Honorable Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Of course, Lady Catherine and Rosings are in all ways impressive, but my sister was marrying Mr. Collins, not his patroness! When I told Lydia and Kitty about it, how they laughed. Then Lydia told me all about what she knew about when Mr. Collins tried to make love to Eliza, having proposed and been rejected, was it only the day before? Tell me, Eliza, did Mr. Collins quote Lady Catherine to you, too?"

Miss Elizabeth told Miss Lucas, “Having just been the recipient of hosting by your brother and sister, it would behoove you to treat the Collinses with more respect. Perhaps Mr. Collins could have done better in courting your sister, but as for any offer he might have made to me, I have forgotten it completely. It would not do to talk so freely about Mr. Collins’s shortcomings in London and when we return home.”

I said nothing. I wished to think well of Mr. Collins as his letter had facilitated my current happiness, but even from my perspective, the man was an oddity. Recollecting that Mr. Collins had offered for Miss Elizabeth was most distasteful. Mrs. Collins was to be pitied, although from what I had seen perhaps she was content.

When Jeffrey re-approached, I knew all had been arranged for the ladies to refresh themselves and me as well. We parted ways and later had just a brief discussion as a group before departing for London. We hoped to arrive at the Gardiners' house at around half past two.

We made good time from Bromley, the roads closer to London being drier and the toll roads being better maintained. I already knew the street where they lived, both from maps I have perused and having physically ridden through almost all streets in the city, taking armed guards with me through the rougher parts. Gracechurch Street, although near Cheapside, was perfectly respectable and an area Bingley might wish to call home now that he was reestablishing himself in trade, though I expected him to remain at Mr. Hurst’s residence at least for a while.

When we arrived at the Gardiners' house, Mrs. Gardiner and Miss Bennet greeted us. Mrs. Gardiner expressed delight at our arrival, supposing that we had not arrived on Saturday due to the prior rain which she understood had rendered many roads difficult to traverse. Miss Bennet was quiet, though she seemed happy to have Miss Elizabeth with her. Georgiana and I only spent a few moments in their home, excusing ourselves due to the long trip but secured permission to call the following morning and also issued an invitation for dinner on Wednesday, which Mrs. Gardiner accepted on behalf of her husband.

I did not like leaving Miss Elizabeth there as I was already thinking of our future and how when we were married, we should not have to part. Still, I was happy for her to be reunited with her beloved sister and relatives and had hope that I should frequently be in Miss Elizabeth’s company.

Upon our arrival home to our house in town, I expressed my desire to refresh myself and then take a nap, but Georgiana bid me, “Certainly take a bit of time to change, but then rather than nap, we should take a brief walk outside.”

“I really wish to nap,” I responded, candidly.

Georgiana told me, turning her face away from Mrs. Annesley, getting closer to me and raising her eyebrows as high as they would go, “We _really_ need to walk in a few minutes.”

Given such a signal, I knew the matter was important and so consented, “Yes, a walk would be most pleasant. I will return to escort you as soon as I can.” Naturally it takes more time for a woman to change her clothing than a man, so I had some idle time in which I tried to enjoy a book I had ordered that arrived to London in the interim, but could make no sense of it. It took all my concentration to remain calm. I did not think anything too terrible could have happened on the journey to town, but still I worried.

Once Georgiana returned, I escorted her through the small garden behind our house. As we walked, she talked inconsequential things which I likely answered with monosyllables for I was mightily distracted, waiting for her to tell me something significant.

Finally, Georgiana sidled closer to me and after a quick look around, while we were faced away from the house, slipped a letter into the front of my waistcoat. "From Miss Elizabeth," was all she whispered.

"But how?" I whispered back, stuffing the letter further towards my side so it could not be seen.

"Do you not recall the small writing desk in our carriage in the right boot, with paper and supplies located beneath? Miss Lucas goaded Miss Elizabeth into it, but I think it would have been her inclination, nonetheless. She told Miss Lucas she was responding to your poetry with a favorite poem of her own, but I dare say it contains more, for she wrote with frequent pauses for a long time."

I thanked my sister and then escorted her back inside. Brimming with curiosity, I returned to my room to read my darling’s letter.

_Dear F.D.,_

_I feel almost as giddy as my younger sisters act, being so bold as to write to you. I have never written a man before, besides my uncle and my father. As to the topics you raised, I have fully absolved you of fault for both circumstances. I am embarrassed by how I acted last night and this morning regarding the toast and once again beg your forgiveness. We are fortunate to have such a formidably woman as Lady C. as our advocate and ally._

_As to your actions on Friday, perhaps the both of us should have been more prudent and circumspect, yet I regret nothing as I understood my own wishes. I cannot help but remember when Miss C.B. spoke of the rationality of substituting conversation for dancing. While it might have been more rational for us to simply converse, a meeting of the minds is for entering into business contracts and not a marriage of love. Conversation alone would have been a poor substitute for actions I suspect we both had long desired and which I think are not improper when justified by an engagement. I cannot help but think if we had depended on words alone, you yet would not have proposed, and I would have missed out on the happiness of these last four days._

_As you anticipated, reading the poem to the others was sufficient to divert M.L. from any suspicion. I did not, however, read anyone anything more than the poem. Your other endearments were so tender, I shall treasure them always. Know that you, too, are my beloved, the one who holds my heart._

_As much as I desired to write to you, all of this might have been communicated in person over the next few days. However, what could not wait is the matter of W.C.'s probable letter even now wending its way toward my father. I know you and C.C. did your best to dissuade him and perhaps Lady C. did so as well, but I suspect he will be stubborn in this matter, convinced that his duty requires him to write._

_This evening when my uncle returns home, I will speak to him and my aunt and tell them all, including how we came to be engaged, the nature of your condition and the rumors G.W. spread. As a canny businessman and skilled negotiator, I anticipate my uncle will have advice on what our strategy should be._

_While W.C.'s reaction that he ought to have been consulted about our engagement as my closest male relative was a bit ridiculous, given the esteem in which I hold my uncle I believe that he would appreciate being addressed by you in place of my father while I reside under his roof. Unlike my father, he is unlikely to make sport of your oddities and will only wish for you to be of good character and likely to make me happy, and of both things I will have already reassured him. I anticipate that tomorrow when you call, you should speak with him about this and any questions he might have for you._

_I am sorry that you must contend with all these things so soon after your arrival in town, but I anticipate you will do all I ask given the love you bear for me. From my understanding of your character, it is my belief that informing you of all these circumstances ahead of time is necessary and will help you be at your best._

_And now, having used up the bulk of this letter in attempting to resolve that problem, I have a bit more room to add some words of encouragement and the endearments that I wish you to hear. F.D., please never worry about falling short again, you deserve every happiness and I know we shall be happy together despite any difficulties. I entered our engagement with open eyes and indeed, I think you worry more than you truly ought. I adore you for you, not for the simulacrum you may wish to take on of what you think you should be. I have long been fond of complex characters and should it take a lifetime, I shall endeavor to truly know you. Your question to me was the most important moment of my life thus far and I greatly desire to be your wife. I am the happiest creature in the world because I have you. The thought of one day saying, “my husband” when speaking of you, fills me with a quiet joy. I will only add, F.D. you also have my devotion and love._

_E.B._


	5. Seeking Permission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy joins Bingley and his sisters for dinner. Later, Darcy meets with Edward Gardiner to explain his intentions toward his niece.

After reading Miss Elizabeth's letter, I felt further assurance of her ongoing regard. I treasured all she had to say, with her absolution provided a calming balm before facing her uncle. I was pleased also that she was showing further understanding of my need for forewarning to adjust myself. Here was evidence that she had been studying my character.

While I had initially told Georgiana I wished to nap, it was more a wish than a real expectation. I felt restless, jittery, as if I had drunk two or three cups of coffee. I was happy, but nervous about meeting Mr. Gardiner on the morrow.

Knowing that any attempt at a nap would be futile, I considered what other options I had for the day and made a decision to call on Bingley at Mr. Hurst’s home instead. Bingley was familiar with Mr. Gardiner and might have some advice for me.

When I arrived at Mr. Hurst's home and asked after Mr. Bingley, I was told by the butler, “I regret to inform you, Mr. Darcy, that Mr. Bingley is not at home at present.” I was just handing him my card, when Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst came out from the front parlor and welcomed me themselves.

Miss Darcy exclaimed, “When I heard the sound of a visitor as the door, I was most anxious to hear who it was. Oh, Darcy, how lovely that you have come to call. Louisa and I have been lonely of late.”

I was not inclined to stay, explaining I had just returned to town and needed to call upon my family, too, when Mrs. Hurst said, “Charles will be back for dinner. Please join us, do, and Miss Darcy is of course welcome too. It will be a simple family dinner. I am afraid Mr. Hurst will not be joining us as he is traveling.” I did not hesitate to agree as it would be advantageous to speak with Bingley after dinner alone. Soon thereafter I made my adieus.

Still feeling restless and with nothing much left to do, I set out to call on Edwin and his family. I did not see the Earl or Edwin, but my aunt was pleased to see me. I found myself accepting another dinner invitation for myself and Georgiana, this one for the following evening.

Given all these invitations piling up, I resolved to see no one else. I wanted to make sure I would still have time to spend with Miss Elizabeth and her family. I returned home and to my chambers.

Whereas some men might have then met with their cook and their sister and her companion about the update to the plans, I penned quick notes to them instead. I could trust that Jeffrey would see that they received them, and I felt the need to reserve energy for the upcoming meal with Bingley and his sisters.

To my cook, I explained my upcoming dinner engagements and then noted that we might have as many as eight guests on Wednesday, but that I would advise her more specifically when plans were set. I hoped my cook would not be too disappointed in not cooking for us until then; hopefully, the sweetener of a dinner for guests would mollify her. In addition to the Gardiners and their guests, I might add Bingley and his sisters, but knew it would depend upon whether Bingley was amenable to seeing Miss Bennet again.

After sending word to Georgiana of our dinner plans, a note to Mrs. Annesley advising that was free to make whatever plans she wanted for the next two evenings and telling Jeffrey as well, I resolved to try to rest, or if that proved impossible to at least engage in a restful activity as I considered how to speak to Mr. Gardiner. In the safety of my chambers, I ended up retrieving a fifty feet long piece of rope from where it was coiled beneath my bed. I wound and unwound it as I thought, sometimes making patterns in the unwinding, sometimes wrapping it around the bed post, sometimes wrapping it around something else (it was too heavy to wrap around my body). Upon coiling it back up the fifth time, I finally felt calm enough to slide it beneath the bed and take a short nap.

The dinner at the Hursts’ home was uneventful, though pleasant enough. Bingley said, “I am so pleased to see you, Darcy.” I felt the same; it always was good to spend time with my friend again. Over dinner, Bingley told us of his plans for the carriage business. He spoke for some time and in some detail about the contract he had worked out with his uncle.

"Charles it seems is something of both salesman and designer for the company," Mrs. Hurst contributed, "rather than directly manufacturing anything."

Bingley beamed. "It has proven to be a good partnership at least thus far, my uncle is all practicality, but gentlemen want a little flair and speed. I find out what they want and why, and then uncle can direct the making of it. I have even begun sketching the modifications they desire, though often slight alterations must be made for safety. The high phaetons are quite dangerous, so we are working on an attractive alternative. We are also working on addition storage in the undercarriage, for certain spare equipment."

I enjoyed seeing Bingley so confident.

Miss Bingley asked, “Darcy, what do you think of this whole thing? Papa wanted to get us away from the world of trade and then my brother dives back in.”

I told her, "It seems that this work agrees with Bingley and I am glad for him. Bingley has my full support in doing what he feels called to do.”

Miss Bingley gave a tight nod and I wondered if I had responded as she wished me to. She added in a different tone, "Oh Darcy, I am afraid this business with Charles descending back into trade has revealed who our true friends are. I half-thought you would cease visiting us anymore once you knew. While I am proud of my brother's industry, we've received far fewer invitations, although most of his University friends still visit." While her words were right, I had a vague sense that he was not pleased with her brother’s actions, for her brow tensed up even as she talked of her pride.

"It is no great loss, I am sure," Bingley added, "and many of my friends have placed orders with us, thinking perhaps my familiarity with them will help me combine practicality and fashion into their custom designs. Timms was impressed that I was able to commission his favorite sofa maker to design the cushioning and covers for his new curricle and that partnership is likely to extend to several other projects."

Miss Bingley then inquired about our Easter trip. When I mentioned my renewed acquaintance with Miss Elizabeth, Miss Bingley's lips grew tight and she asked, "Do you admire her still?"

While I would not reveal our engagement, I could not help but say, "She is most lovely, yet I have also learned that her inner character matches her outside appearance. She has become a good friend to Georgiana and my cousin Anne de Bourgh."

Georgiana then regaled them with her and Miss Elizabeth's efforts to teach Anne the piano forte, though carefully omitting any overt mention of Anne's particular challenges.

Miss Bingley seemed intrigued that a hidden talent could be discovered so late. "If she comes to town, I should like to meet her, but I expect her mother would not allow her to associate with us now." She seemed sad.

Although we did not discuss it, I knew that Bingley's decision to pursue his interest had certainly had a deleterious effect on Miss Bingley’s likelihood of being able marry a gentleman. In the eyes of the elite, Bingley had lowered his value, and that of his sister as well. Still, I had no intention of allowing Bingley returning his family to its roots in trade affect our friendship. I also believed that given how understanding Miss Bingley had been toward me, she might well be a good potential friend for Anne if a bit more of Miss Bingley’s conceit was worn away and if Anne continued to improve. Therefore, I promised, “Should my Cousin Anne come to London, I will certainly introduce you.”

With this pronouncement, Miss Bingley seemed pleased. She said, “I knew, or rather hoped, this would be how it would be, that despite our change in fortunes that you would still stand with us.”

During the separation of the sexes, I had a good talk with Bingley and told him how I had offered for Miss Elizabeth’s hand and been accepted, but did not wish for the matter to be known before everything was resolved with getting the permission of her father. He told me, “I suspected that it would be she as I have never seen you so taken with a woman before. You have my sincere congratulations. When do you suppose you will wed?”

I expressed my hope for a short engagement. Bingley said, “Yes, why wait when you have found the other half of your heart.”

I then asked whether he might wish to dine with us when I was hosting the Gardiners and the rest. He said, “As much as I would like to accept, to see you happy with your soon to be bride, I cannot think it advisable to see Miss Bennet once more. Having raised her expectations, time is needed. Knowing her younger sister is engaged and then dining with me . . . , I should not wish to give her hope where none exists. I see now that what I thought was love was as transient as a rainbow. Additionally, my sisters' attempts to discourage her were not kind. It would be awkward, indeed."

Bingley was able to reassure me on my meeting with Mr. Gardiner. "He is a fair man, reasonable and prudent. In my business dealings with him he always seeks collaborations with long term advantages to both parties. He is certainly less capricious than Mr. Bennet. He will understand the merits of such a union to Miss Elizabeth and her whole family despite your difficulties."

Soon enough, we rejoined the ladies and allowed them to entertain us at the piano forte. I went away that evening confident that my interview with Mr. Gardiner would go well and I would marry Miss Elizabeth before long.

The next day Georgiana and I called on the Gardiners and their guests. I had a pleasurable few minutes of discourse with all the ladies. Mrs. Gardiner seemed the sort of matron who artfully arranges the conversation to put everyone at ease. Though I had trouble thinking of what to say and Miss Bennet said almost nothing at all, still Mrs. Gardiner managed to find some conversation to involve us all. Later, she mentioned her connection to Lambton and praised Pemberley's grounds, thus making me believe, _Here, is an ally_.

After a few minutes I inquired, “Is Mr. Gardiner available? I should like to make his acquaintance,” and was promptly shown to his study. As I ascended the stairs, I had the pleasure of hearing Miss Elizabeth's laughter combined with my sister's, and a third lady's deeper chuckle which I imagined belonged to Mrs. Gardiner.

When shown to Mr. Gardiner's study, he motioned for me to sit and continued for some moments more to conclude some correspondence. It was a tactic my father had used to show who had the upper hand and who was the supplicant. I did not care in which role I was cast, as long as I accomplished what I set out to do.

When Mr. Gardiner eventually laid down his pen and put his paper to the side, I rose, reached out and shook his hand. His dark eyes sparkled with intelligence and I fancied Miss Elizabeth's eyes were rather like his. He waited for me to speak. This was another tactic I recognized. It made me anxious, but I did my best to act calm, though my throat suddenly went dry and my hands slightly shook. I took a deep breath and began.

"Mr. Gardiner, I am very pleased to make your acquaintance. I understand that Miss Elizabeth must have advised you of the purpose of my call."

He nodded but said naught; he crossed his arms and waited.

I began to speak further and although I had every intention of meeting his gaze after only a few minutes I could look no higher than his chest and felt myself bob slightly. Still, I persisted.

"Your niece is a remarkable woman. I have loved and admired her since spending time with her in Hertfordshire, but due to my actions born of techniques to protect myself and disparaging remarks made about me from a companion of my youth, she did not have a good impression of me. When I met her again in Kent, I was determined to gain her favor or at least correct any misapprehensions she may have had as to my character.”

Mr. Gardiner inclined his head, and when I said nothing further commanded, “Pray continue.”

“I have done my best to be forthright with Miss Elizabeth. I am not like other men, and I felt it best if she were prepared. I told her of my desire to court her, to gain her hand. Shortly before we left Kent, she accepted my suit and in seal of such arrangement, I kissed her. Unfortunately, in the setting where this took place we were observed -"

"Mr. Darcy," he interrupted, "do you think kissing a maiden is more acceptable where you cannot be observed?"

I glanced up at him but before looking away noted that he was glaring at me, his eyebrows drawn together, his arms crossed.

"No, of course not."

"Have you a habit of claiming favors from young women?"

"No, not at all. You must understand, I know I ought not have acted as I did, it was rash and much too bold, but my intentions toward your niece were always honorably."

I glanced back at him and saw him nod. While his face had relaxed, his arms were still crossed.

"Still, I think a bit of indulgence may be had when a man’s proposal is accepted. We agreed to keep our engagement a secret until I could obtain permission from her father, however that was not to be. Unfortunately, rumors began to surface so my aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, determined a public acknowledgment of our engagement was the best way to combat this gossip.”

I flicked my eyes for a second or two in his general direction. “I only mention all of this as Miss Elizabeth fears that her cousin, Mr. Collins, will have sent a letter to her father explaining our engagement before I can properly ask his permission. I therefore request your temporary permission for her hand until I can properly apply to her father and any assistance you can offer in helping us finalize our arrangement."

I stopped speaking and forced my eyes to look up at him. Mr. Gardiner gave a quick nod. I wondered if it was a nod of agreement or mere acknowledgment. While I hoped for the former, I had a sense that it was the later and his words quickly disabused me of any uncertainty.

"Let me be clear Mr. Darcy. As my niece's temporary guardian, I have no authority to give you the permission that you seek. At most I may let you court her under my auspices. That means you will always be properly supervised and there will be no more kissing. I take my responsibilities seriously and Mr. Collins was indeed deficient in not making sure you observed all proprieties."

As this hardly seemed the time to explain that we had purposely hidden all knowledge of our informal courtship from Mr. Collins, I simply acknowledged, "I will abide by your terms."

Mr. Gardiner remained silent, perhaps waiting as if to see if I would continue, but I determined to say no more rather than ramble.

Finally, he said, "I have not yet given permission for you to court her. Your position in life and your money mean nothing to me if I conclude you are not honorable or would not make her happy."

I nodded in acknowledgment. I knew my immediate fate was in Mr. Gardiner’s hands. I felt certain any permission he might give was essential in smoothing my way with Mr. Bennet.

Then Mr. Gardiner said, "Both you and my niece have alluded to you having certain difficulties. Can you explain what those are? I do not yet understand."

I took a deep breath. I was not used to having to explain myself to those decidedly beneath me in consequence, to no one really, but I resolved that I would lay it all before him, open myself up like a filleted fish. It was completely terrifying, yet I was determined to be completely honest.

"I have always been different . . ." I spoke haltingly at first. It had been difficult enough to share everything with Miss Elizabeth and now I was laying all my deepest shame bare before someone I did not know. I trusted Miss Elizabeth and Bingley though, and they thought I could trust him with all of my secrets. Mr. Gardiner was mostly quiet, but his eyes when I managed to look at them had all the expressiveness of Miss Elizabeth's, which was rather disconcerting.

When I spoke of having to assert myself with demanding control back from Edwin, I felt all the emotion from that confrontation anew. I also felt all the self-doubt I had felt before.

The longer I spoke, the more certain I became that Mr. Gardiner would want to keep his niece far away from me. Why would he want her to marry someone like me, when she was so vivacious and witty that she could charm any man she chose?

After perhaps a quarter of an hour I fell silent. It was only when I had concluded speaking that I braved looking up at Mr. Gardiner’s face for any appreciable period of time. When I did, I did not know what his expression meant, but I did not see the condemnation I expected. His face was relaxed, his arms were no longer crossed and he was leaning forward with his chin on one hand, his elbow braced upon his desk. We were both silent for several minutes.

I was worn out as if I had just raced my horse, swum underwater for a great distance or stayed awake all night long. I longed to slump in my chair, yet I was doing my best to sit straight, to make the best impression that I could.

Finally, Mr. Gardiner responded. I listened, half hopeful, half in dread. "You have had a difficult time of it, that is certainly true. The people that by blood and nature should have been your allies have often done you more harm than good, yet there have also been those who have done their best to understand. I see the strength of your character has been developed.

“Great men can have their idiosyncrasies, and no one thinks too much of it. Your position in life means that much can be excused, but you must always be on your guard and be careful that only a select few that can be trusted are admitted into your inner circle."

I waited, wondering what all this meant for me.

Mr. Gardiner seemed to ponder further, then added, "I can also see that it could be a challenge for anyone to live with you because you react differently than others, need different things and may be flummoxed by things that the rest of us seem to instinctively understand.”

I felt a little sting in my eyes from tears I would not shed. With such a beginning, I was certain Mr. Gardiner would tell me I should not call upon his niece at his house, declare that Miss Elizabeth should not have any association with me. However, his next words gradually overturned that notion.

“The proper wife for you must be tenacious and self-reliant, willing to confront you when you balk to explain and retreat into your shell, but she must also know when to leave you alone. You need an insightful and clever wife. There is none so insightful and clever as our Lizzy. I think, perhaps, she and you will suit."

I was ready to sigh with relief when Mr. Gardiner added, "Still, I want to see how you interact together. I am not ready to put my full support behind you at this juncture. For the sake of Elizabeth's future happiness, I must determine that the good will outweigh the bad. To this end, I want you to spend time with her in my house. Outings are fine, too, so long as you are properly chaperoned, and that chaperone is me or my wife. Now is there anything else you think I ought to know?"

I thought for a time and knew there was one last thing I needed to tell him, yet I hesitated. The partial approval he had given me could be withdrawn at any moment.

Mr. Gardiner looked at me, waiting. "Come now, Mr. Darcy, it is important that you are honest with me. What is it? I can tell you hesitate to speak yet given your prior candor you must proceed."

"You are right, of course," I replied. Still I pondered a few minutes more, trying to decide how to phrase the matter. Finally, I simply began. "I hesitate to say anything further, but my honor demands I be fully honest. My cousin Edwin believes that my cousin Anne de Bourgh and I share the same condition, that it may be passed on from us to the next generation. I do not know what Miss Elizabeth has told you of Anne, but if we share the same thing, it is more debilitating for her. I have told Miss Elizabeth of his belief, for as I said before, I wanted her to know everything.

“I have seen no other evidence of such a condition existing in any of my Fitzwilliam relatives and my sister Georgiana does not have whatever ‘it’ is. However, it is something any potential wife of mine should consider as possible in any children I might father. It would not be easy to be the mother of one such as me." I waited for him to respond, sure that at any moment Mr. Gardiner would bid me leave and never darken his door again.

"That is a grave thought," Mr. Gardiner seemed to consider, "yet so much can go wrong with children. Perhaps you see it less in your position because families hide their defective children away, but in the merchant class often such children stay close at hand with their parents while they work. And there are children that start out as they should, yet after a serious illness or carriage accident are greatly changed if they survive.”

He seemed to think further before adding, “The advantage you have is that you will always be able to afford to properly care for your offspring, however they may be, and if they are like you at least they would have your guidance. I am glad you have told me of this, it bears further consideration, but it does not change my earlier conviction that you have my provisional support while I learn more."

I wanted dearly to take my leave of him then, but knew I had to ask, "What of Mr. Collins? Miss Elizabeth is greatly worried of the trouble he may cause."

"Yes," Mr. Gardiner seemed to consider, "something should be done about that. Given that, I will waste no time in informing my brother Mr. Bennet that you are courting his daughter and reassure him that you are doing everything proper under my auspices. More I cannot do at this juncture."

I hoped it would be enough. He rose, I arose with him and we returned to the ladies.


	6. Dinner with the Earl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy and Georgiana have dinner with the Earl and his family. Afterwards, Edwin makes a confession and Darcy learns from Georgiana about who Lady Matlock wants Georgiana to marry.

When I returned to the parlor, Miss Elizabeth and Georgiana paused in talking to welcome me back, but then resumed discussing the different entertainments that London had to offer. I was able to ask, “Should you like to visit Gunter's Tea Shop on Berkley Square for ices or other confections later in the week?”

Georgiana exclaimed, "It has the most charming custom of allowing ladies to be served while they yet remain in their carriages parked at the square, to enjoy the scenery." She did not add, though I knew she knew, that it was not uncommon for gentlemen to talk to the ladies while standing outside their carriages as they enjoyed their confections; it was quite respectable really, as there was a good separation of the sexes. The ladies expressed their interest, and I stored this idea in my mind as one to combine with any future outing.

As Georgiana's portion of the call had already been quite lengthy, I resolved that we must go, but was gratified to hear Georgiana entreating Miss Elizabeth specifically, “You must come to visit and try out my piano forte before dinner. All of you should come then. I shall be satisfied with nothing less than an afternoon visit extending through your dinner invitation and entertainment to follow."

I was quick to second the invitation, adding, "I have been acquainted with the Miss Bennets and Miss Lucas since my visit to Netherfield and my sister with Miss Elizabeth and Miss Lucas while we stayed at Rosings. Surely this friendship allows us some leeway in the social conventions while we are becoming acquainted with their hosts, the Gardiners."

"Yes, you must arrive by half past three," Georgiana insisted.

Mrs. Gardiner agreed, but clarified the time at which her husband should join them for dinner itself as he would be occupied with his business before then. We then made our excuses.

Although I would have liked to spend more time with Miss Elizabeth, I was exhausted by my interview with Mr. Gardiner. It was not so much a physical exhaustion; it was easy enough to ride my horse home by my sister’s carriage, but an exhaustion of my mind.

Fortunately, Georgiana was content to talk just a few minutes upon our return home with very little contribution from me. We walked around to the back of our home and sat upon a bench by a row of roses whose pleasant scent was intended to counteract the London air. She told me, “I liked Mrs. Gardiner very much; she was just what a mother should be.” As for Miss Bennet, she noted, “She is certainly very pretty, but she seemed very melancholy for someone whose sister had just returned to her. And did you notice, Brother, that when you mentioned Netherfield she became quite grim?"

I then had to explain, “I think I know why she is sad. Originally Miss Bennet and Bingley fancied each other, but that he changed his mind based on her disparagement of me, when, really, Miss Bennet had been influenced by Miss Elizabeth before _she_ thought well of _me_.

"Why, how sad,” Georgiana exclaimed. “Does Bingley understand it really was not Miss Bennet’s fault?" I nodded. "Well then he is being rather silly, I think."

"I tried to set it right, but Bingley says he no longer fancies her. I tried to invite him for dinner, but he declined."

"Perhaps," she pondered, "we may yet arrange a meeting for them and rekindle their romance?"

"Georgiana . . . while Miss Bennet might like it, I do not think Bingley would welcome your interference."

Knowing that in the evening Georgiana and I were to dine with our Fitzwilliam relatives, I knew I needed time to myself to rest. Georgiana knows me well, so I doubt she was surprised when I told her, “We should go inside,” and then once inside excused myself.

When I gained my chambers, I spent a few minutes pondering whether Georgiana would try to matchmake for an unwilling Bingley, but soon enough my mind turned to recalling every detail of my meeting with Mr. Gardiner. While I had not expected Mr. Gardiner to defer to me based on my position in life, the interview had not gone as I expected. I had thought he would be more interested in knowing what the marriage contract would entail, or the extent of my wealth, but he asked no questions of the sort. I was glad her uncle was not mercenary; he seemed to have Miss Elizabeth's best interests in mind, rather than how my connections could help him.

After I had thought about all of that for long time, my thoughts turned to the upcoming dinner that evening with my relatives. Although I had already accepted Lady Matlock’s invitation, I now wished the acceptance undone. I was worried that the dinner would not merely be a dinner. Given certain things that Edwin had written in his letter to me before he departed from Kent, I knew I would have to be on guard and alert.

I had read Edwin’s letter several times and certain lines continued to concern me. This included that the Earl had tasked Edwin with “doing [his] best to ensure that Rosings and Pemberley stayed in the hands of [his] family” and had arrived at the solution that I should “tak[e] Anne to wife, produc[e] no children . . . and nam[e] my Fitzwilliam cousins as heirs” with “the Earl . . . long favor[ing] the idea that when Georgiana is of marital age that she might make a match among [the Earl’s sons].” Too, Edwin had written that he feared being made “to ask for Anne's hand [him]self” and opined that the Earl “may still desire that [Edwin] or one of [his] brothers marry [Anne][.]”

I needed to know: How displeased was the Earl at me that I would not marry Anne, now that he had undoubtedly heard from Edwin that I had rejected any sort of union with her, and what might the Earl do about it? Would the Earl seek now to match one of his sons to Anne? Did the Earl have serious designs on Pemberley or simply hope that if something happened to me and Georgiana that his sons would be next in line to inherit? Did he merely hope Georgiana might wish to marry one of his sons, or was it part of a larger scheme, to perhaps gain Pemberley through my sister marrying one of his sons?

If the Earl said anything of significance, I needed to note it. I would also need to notice what he hinted at but left unsaid and also what he might signal without words. The last possibility scared me the most, for I knew all too well that I had trouble understanding what the more subtle facial expressions meant.

I wished I could confide in Georgiana about the matter, but I had not shared Edwin’s letter with her, did not wish to burden her with vague fears about her future. She already had burdens a plenty in seeking to aide me. I wanted her to retain whatever small bit of her childhood remained after our parents’ deaths and George Wickham’s perfidy.

I could not simply ask the Earl about his intentions in regard to these things and I was also not certain as to the likelihood of any threat. I rather believed that Lady Catherine would never let her daughter wed any of my cousins and I certainly would not let my sister be matched to any of them either. Additionally, as Georgiana had not had her come out and been presented to the Queen, any fear regarding his future marital plans for her did not need to be addressed immediately and hopefully not at all.

While practicality suggested I might wish to speak with Edwin about his father’s plans, I was uncertain whether I could trust whatever he might say about them. I hoped, rather than believed, that he might be on my side. But it was difficult for me to imagine trusting him.

It may seem odd, given how common it is for men of wealth to keep mistresses, but I felt I could not trust the character of someone who might have made his sisters’ former governess his mistress. Certainly it was only supposition then, but the more I had considered the matter, the more certain I became that Edwin’s wife in watercolors, whom he had more than once named as Sylvia, might in fact be Governess Selina Vaughn.

I am not sure how other men think about things, but I know that my mind can get caught up in a particular thought and that thought can remain for me for a long, long time, like a dog may chew upon a bone until no hint of meat remains. I dearly wanted to ask Edwin for the truth, confront him about his assumed perfidy, explain the wrongness of his actions. But would he listen to me? It was long his place to correct me rather than the other way around.

Additionally, I was unsure if I was ready for any kind of confrontation after how difficult the day had already been. Undoubtedly, I had tried to do too much, not given myself ample time to rest and be alone that I needed so dearly to save up my strength to be at my best.

As if my body knew what I needed to become calm once more, I let myself be free, swaying as I hummed. It felt good. Later, I lay upon my bed, not sleeping but resting, nevertheless.

Dinner with the Earl and his family was lively as usual. Having so many male cousins almost always guaranteed it would be. I had trouble following all of the conversation as so many of them talked, but none of it seemed of much consequence.

The Earl said almost nothing himself other than to ask whether we had a pleasant visit to Rosings (we both replied that we did) and how long we planned to remain in town (I told him that our plans were not yet set). There was not so much as a hint that I could tell that the Earl was contemplating the marital prospects of me, Georgiana or Cousin Anne. By the conclusion of dinner, I was almost certain that Edwin had overstated everything.

After dinner, Lady Matlock bid my sister go with her, beckoning her and telling her, “Dear Georgiana, how I have missed you. We must have a little chat.” Georgiana went willingly to her side.

I have long suspected my aunt sees something of her dead daughters in my sister though I do not believe since their passing I have ever heard her utter their names. She must still grieve (Would not any mother?) but keeps it deep inside where no one can see it. After all, by any measure of success she has more than done her duty in producing so many sons.

It occurred to me then, as undoubtedly it should have before, that Georgiana in losing her mother and Lady Matlock in losing her daughters, had every reason to take solace in each other. However, while they were always cordial to one another, I had never noticed any particular sort of closeness between them.

As is typical, we men did not congregate together after dinner. The Earl prefers to take a short nap and Edwin's brothers always take this opportunity to have a little time to themselves, so Edwin was left to entertain me per the usual practice. Edwin took the time to drink and smoke, imbibing more than usual. Having successfully navigated dinner, I felt the strength to proceed to have a frank talk with Edwin about the mystery that was his mistress, Sylvia.

Without any prelude, I decided to ask the question I had pondered: "Edwin, is your Sylvia your sisters' former governess, Miss Selina Vaughn?"

"So, you finally puzzled that out." Edwin patted me on the shoulder, his words a little thick from his partaking of a bit too much to drink. "I congratulate you. It was not much of a mystery. You fancied her; I suppose."

"She was kind to Georgiana. That is what I remember most," I told him. While I had found Miss Vaughn lovely, any remembered fondness I had for her was now completely eclipsed by my feelings for Miss Elizabeth.

But thinking of Miss Elizabeth ignited a powerful anger within me, in seeing a parallel in both women’s status in life and what my beloved might have had to do if placed in a similar position by her father’s death, were she not marrying me. "How could you put Miss Vaughn in that position?" I heard myself yell. "She was a woman of gentle birth, with a good education and a fine disposition. You told me regarding Miss Elizabeth in your letter that you had no serious designs in engaging in inappropriate conduct with the daughter of a gentleman, yet that is exactly what you did with Miss Vaughn!"

"Did I say that?" Edwin forced out a harsh chuckle. "I can hardly recall what I wrote to you. I was honest, though, as Miss Bennet remains a gentleman's daughter. I am not the one who removed Miss Vaughn from that sphere of genteel servitude. I did not do that, her new employer did when he stole her virtue."

His finding this humorous (or acting as if it were) did not amuse me and my anger burned hotter. I wished to make him take this seriously, to pop him on the chin, but I forced myself to pause and unclench my fists, which had somehow been raised. As now he was drinking straight from the bottle, he did not seem to notice.

"Still, Edwin, how could you put her in that position? I expect she came to you for help!"

"Whatever she may have hoped for, it was not in my power to grant it. I could not restore her position; I could only offer her security. She had precious little of that when her employer confessed to his wife; his moment of remorse doomed her. His wife decried Miss Vaughn for her whorish ways and publicly threw her out. I was the best choice of those choices remaining for her. She could have ended up in a brothel or weighing herself down with rocks and walking into the ocean. She pondered doing just that; she told me so."

I pondered this and tried to let my anger cool. At least Miss Vaughn had not taken her life and been barred from Heaven's gates, but could she still reach it now?

"I doubt there really was nothing you could do; you did not care to make an effort which would have cost you little." I heard condemnation in my tone of voice.

"Have you never been tempted by a woman?” Edwin asked me.

He apparently did not wish me to answer for Edwin almost immediately continued. “I always found Selina attractive and there she was, completely in my power. Yes, I should have done something different, I am sure, but I did not, and I cannot regret it overly much. It is the way of the world and we do care for one another.

“Do you know when the Earl found out he offered his congratulations? He said ‘You have claimed your manhood with a fine choice, stole her right out from under me. Well, she never was under me, but she could have been.’ My father fancied her for himself; I think he was a bit jealous."

I thought about that for a moment, a father telling his son he wished he could have had the son’s mistress for himself, having no shame in openly dishonoring his wife. At least Edwin had no wife.

I let Edwin talk and drink some more and pondered what my reply should be. I think he wanted me to understand, but to me there is wrong and right and there was no doubt that he had chosen wrong and continued to choose wrong.

"Fitz," Edwin looked into my eyes then, his own eyes unfocused. I wonder how he had so quickly become intoxicated. Still his words were still easy to understand, there was only a bit of hesitancy, a slower pace than usual. "Our time together is not just about fulfilling my physical needs. We have a true companionship and discuss many things. Do you know, Sylvia is the only one who will still talk about my dear lost sisters, Emmeline and Marina? She loved them as I still do. Mother and father act as if they never existed."

Edwin loosened his cravat and then cast it aside. Then he gave a deep sigh. "Your father was a wise man. He fulfilled many purposes in single actions. Do you know why he gave joint guardianship of Georgiana to the both of us?"

The change of topic confused me, but perhaps his drinking had muddled his thinking. "I expect he thought I was unfit to see to her upbringing," I told him. It was a question I had contemplated many times before.

"Perhaps, but your father usually had many motives for his actions beyond the most obvious ones.” Edwin set down the bottle of liquor, which was empty in any event. It was precariously close to the edge of the table and I pushed it back.

Edwin stared at me then with his unfocused eyes, grabbing at one of my shoulders; whether it was to steady himself or to try to get me to understand, I do not know. He explained, “I believe Uncle Darcy also knew that I needed a sister and in granting me that responsibility it was as close as he could come to giving one to me. But it is a shadow of what I had with my Emmy and Mara.”

Edwin squeezed my shoulder harder, stared into my eyes as much as he could and said, “Fitz, you are first in Georgiana’s heart and likely always will be unless she makes a love match. She knows you need her, but as for me . . .” his eyes left me and he also pulled his hand away, “I am just an amusing friend, easily set aside, of no particular importance. She does not see my wounds for my sisters, my fallen comrades and all my failures, my being a disappointment to him, to myself, as I have bound them well, but still . . . they fester and bleed."

Edwin gazed back up at me and the look he gave me then . . . I may not be skilled at interpreting what someone’s face says, but even I could recognize the pain upon his face. I saw lines form upon his forehead and between his brows as he scrunched his eyes nearly shut. I saw his tense jaw, his bitten lip. I saw how he curved his fingers, how he made them stiff and tight, so that his fingers resembled the talons on a hawk, and then, as if they were claws, he raked one hand along his exposed neck, leaving red scratches.

I grabbed Edwin’s hand, to stop him from doing it again, but he simply scratched at himself with his other hand (in the process baring more of his neck) until I grabbed it, too. It was as if we were an odd couple in a dance, about to promenade down the line. I could see through the open neck of his lawn shirt that there were other half-healed scratches upon his neck and chest. I did not understand why he might do this to himself.

I did not know what to say, my anger had dissipated as Edwin shared his pain. I have long heard in vino veritas, and he was certainly proving that true. I pulled him toward me and embraced him and he suddenly collapsed into me, sobbing on my shoulder. While I am the taller man, he likely outweighs me by a stone or two, and it took effort to keep us both upright.

Edwin had comforted me before, but this was the first time I could remember being the one to comfort him, and those were the first tears I had ever seen him shed. I was not sure I really understood how much pain he bore and whether his actions were showing me how he truly felt or if the strong drink perhaps magnified his perception of his own unhappiness.

After Edwin's tears had run their course, I summoned his manservant to attend to his scratches and get him to bed and then joined the men who had finally gathered; my aunt and Georgiana were still absent. The Earl told me, "We must have a serious talk soon." Then he clasped me on the shoulder, "No need to look so grim, Darcy. I am neither your jailer nor your executioner, but I will remind you of your duty."

I was silent, completely overwhelmed by everything I had experienced today. I felt barely able to function, could not deal with another confrontation. My deepest desire was to return home with Georgiana and be alone in my chambers. Where was she?

Fortunately, a few minutes later Georgiana reappeared with Lady Matlock. Georgiana looked anxious, her face devoid of expression, her hands slightly shaking, while Lady Matlock looked stiff and proud. Georgiana rushed to my side and took my arm, pressing in with her fingernails. It was a signal we had developed that meant, "We must leave this place, now!" Generally I was the one to use it, not she.

I wondered what could have gone amiss during her time with Lady Matlock. Whatever it was, I concurred that we ought to leave.

I told them, “We must go. It is late and we are only lately returned to our home.”

Lady Matlock said, “Surely you can stay a while longer.”

Earl just looked at me, neither urging me to stay, or giving me permission to go. I was in no mood to be polite, so we left anyway.

On the ride home (me on my horse, her in the carriage), I frequently caught a flash of Georgiana’s expression in the faint light. She seemed unhappy. When I opened the door, she was still seated. As she had asked me many times, I now asked, “Should you wish to talk of it, whatever happened with our aunt?”

Georgiana nodded and asked, “Will you not sit with me a bit?”

I do not ride in carriages, never wish to ride in one again, but the carriage was halted before our front door and would not be in motion with us in it, so I climbed inside. I tried to ignore the confined space as I sat beside her and waited.

Georgiana leaned into my side and I could feel her trembling. I placed my arms around her firmly and she leaned her head into my shoulder for a time. Then she lifted up her head, so I let her go.

"Oh Brother, at first Lady Matlock was so kind. She expressed how glad she was to have time with me, that it was lonely living in a house full of men. I suppose it is with our eldest cousin the Baron visiting his wife's family, and none of our other cousins married. Lady Matlock told me how proud she was of the young woman I was becoming and how she was sure our parents would have thought the same. But before long she was telling me that she would manage my come out."

"You knew that was coming, Georgiana; how could that distress you so? I was glad you wanted to leave, though that is hardly an emergency."

"That is not the worst part, Brother. You must let me continue. She told me she had a good report two days ago from Lady Catherine about how I had helped Anne."

Georgiana paused but I did not interrupt. That could not be the worst part. In my exhaustion it was easy to do naught but listen.

"Lady Matlock then told me she knew that you and Edwin had a falling out, but that he would continue to do his duty toward you."

I kept waiting. That could not be the worst part.

"After that she told me it was your duty to marry Anne and as your family we were all responsible for seeing that you carry out your duty, and that if you would not, one of her sons would have to wed Anne."

I nodded, recalling the similar information in Edwin’s letter. I did not much care for the idea of any of my cousins marrying Anne, of Anne marrying anyone at present and I now bore a responsibility to look after her as I was able. Someday, perhaps, Anne might marry someone, but it could not be just anyone. She would need a husband who was patient, kind, understanding; any of my cousins would care first about her money and not about her. Was that the worst part?

"I told Lady Matlock, ‘Anne is not ready to marry anyone and my brother has another bride in mind.’” Georgiana interjected, “I hope I did not say too much in hinting that you would marry another; I know you did not want anyone to know yet. I also told her, ‘I do not believe that Lady Catherine would want Anne to marry any of your sons; they are much too libertine for her taste.’ Lady Matlock did not acknowledge anything I said, simply told me, ‘You are too young to know how the world works.’ Out of politeness I did not argue with her, knowing that she cannot control your actions."

I wondered for a moment how Georgiana knew of the depravities of her cousins or if perhaps she did not know exactly what the word “libertine” meant, but then put that thought aside in favor of analyzing Georgiana’s conversation with Lady Matlock. I felt all the duty I had taken on in protecting Anne and wondered what I could do on her behalf. But still, my primary duty lay with my sister. Was Lady Matlock all talk, or was the iron hand of the Earl behind her words? Lady Matlock’s ideas were not all that surprising given my past conversations with Edwin about his father's wish for me to marry Anne, but I felt something worse was still coming.

"Then Lady Matlock said I should not worry overly much about choosing a groom in my first season. I thought she was trying to change the topic to my come out. I thought she would say I had plenty of time to be a young lady before I accepted any offer of marriage. But instead . . . oh Brother," Georgiana pushed herself against me once again, her face against my neck, her body trembling.

In a quiet and shaky voice that I could barely hear, Georgiana told me, “Lady Matlock said . . . she said . . . ‘Georgiana, it is your duty to aid your family through your marriage; you will do that by marrying one of my sons.’”

If I had not been holding Georgiana then, I am not sure what I would have done. I had a strong desire to rent something apart, to break and pound, to shout and curse. But I was trapped by my need to comfort her; still my fists clenched.

Edwin’s emotions, her emotions, my own emotions, it was all too much, I was drowning in them. I could not help but wonder if I should have told Georgiana earlier about Edwin’s letter and his suppositions about the Earl’s desire for her to wed one of his sons.

I forced myself to ask when Georgiana said nothing further, doing my best to regulate my voice, “What did you say?”

Georgiana pulled back a little from me then, but I did not look at her face; instead, I studied the upholstery inside the carriage, tried to count the blue stitches along the upper edge of the patterned backwards facing seat. It was a bit too far to really make them out, especially in the dim light, but it was something I had done when younger when riding in a carriage. Still, it hurt to hear my sister’s distress.

“Naturally, I told her I did not want to marry any of them, but she said . . . she said . . . that Edwin as my guardian had the right to choose who I would marry, that you were unfit having let me almost run off with Mr. Wickham. I . . . I did not think she knew anything about Mr. Wickham. I was so embarrassed, so distressed by then, that I could barely pay attention to the rest of what she was saying, but I knew I needed to, that you would want to know.”

I unclenched one of my fists and glided it over her shoulder, making an attempt to be comforting. That must have had the desired effect, for Georgiana continued talking. “Lady Matlock told me, ‘You need not decide immediately who the lucky groom will be, but your uncle already has plans for who your second oldest cousin will marry; her family is titled and she is richly dowered. Still, three grooms to choose from is more than enough.

“Then Lady Matlock explained, ‘Your uncle initially said he would decide which of his sons would have the honor, but I prevailed upon him to let you have a bit of a choice. I expect he had no particular preference on whom of them it should be, for he let me have my way. Now, that could change if he finds a more advantageous marriage for one of them, so for your sake you should be quick to decide. Certainly, you will wish to spend some time with each of them; you must frequently join us for dinner.’

I think I was holding Georgiana too tight then in my distress, so I made a conscious effort to loosen my arms, my hands.

“I know I should have simply told her I would not marry any of them, that Edwin could not override your authority and that you would never wish to see me forced into a marriage not of my choosing, but I felt when she mentioned Mr. Wickham there was a threat being made to my reputation and yours, so I kept silent except for asking, ‘Would any of my cousins want to marry me?’

“Lady Matlock looked at me then as if ticking off a list of my desirable characteristics. She told me, ‘You are a lovely young woman if a bit shy, come from a fine family, have a generous dowry and are the heir to Pemberley. You shall have suitors a plenty. My sons have known their whole lives that they shall marry whomever my husband chooses. Any of them shall do his duty. Before your first season is through, we will announce the match and throw a ball in your honor.’

“I have never heard myself referred to as the heir to Pemberley before,” Georgiana commented. “Always, Brother, I have known that you would marry, that your wife would give you sons and that Father’s lands passed from him to you, and then would pass to the heirs of your body. I knew the only thing I would bring to my husband is my dowry.”

I nodded, Father had been quite clear on that point; I had known that Pemberley’s future rested with me, through me. Georgiana pulled back from me then, announcing, “I am well enough for now.” I believe she was trying to be strong for me.

Georgiana continued, “I remember learning at some point that Pemberley and Rosings were not entailed away from the female line, knew that if by chance you only had daughters that the eldest would take as Anne has, but I never considered that someone might want to marry me to get Pemberley. Lady Matlock talking about it that way, it worried me greatly.”

I tried to reason it out, “First they wanted me to marry Anne, but not have any children. So, I suppose if I do not marry Anne, they do not wish for me to marry at all.” I did not voice the thoughts that followed on from that. _If he knew me engaged, would the Earl wish to scare Elizabeth or me into crying off? If we were to marry anyway and the Earl did not get his way, would he want her or me dead?_ I did not think him to be someone who would murder, but he was used to getting his own way on everything and if I were gone, no one could truly oppose him. I certainly did not think that Edwin would as he has long been used to deferring to him.

“You will marry Miss Elizabeth,” Georgiana declared emphatically. “There is nothing the Earl can do to stop it. Truly I wish you were married to her now and we were all safe at Pemberley.” Now my sister was seeking to reassure me.

There was some sense to what Georgiana was saying. These were not the times of old when an army might be mounted to take down a rival. At Pemberley we would be safe, and I could certainly hire guards to protect her, me and Georgiana, wherever we might go.

I told her, “I believe the Earl’s main power is that he may scare us into doing what he wants or make us think we have no choice. He does not have the power to make you marry one of his sons. Even when brought before a priest, a woman always has the power of refusal.”

Georgiana told me, “I feel stronger with you by my side, but what if they could truly remove me from your care? I do not think I could oppose them all. She burst into tears, no longer my confident sister, but a frightened girl. I pulled her close once more.

"Oh Georgiana," I tried my best to comfort her, "I am sure Lady Matlock is all talk. I cannot imagine Edwin would consent to such a scheme."

"But he is always faithful to his father's dictates."

"Not in this, he could not be. Edwin loves you as a sister. He has told me so, more than once. And even if he were determined I would be more determined still and put all our resources behind preventing such an outcome. I will go see my solicitor in the morning, though, just to make sure they could do no such thing."

"Oh, thank you Brother." Georgiana’s tears lessened.

"Do you not know I would protect you with my life? You are so very precious to me."

We remained in the carriage until her tears stopped and she had mopped her face with my handkerchief. In those minutes, my mind raced with all that I needed to do to protect my sister. I would need to talk with my solicitor and then if I were sure of my legal position, I might talk to Edwin and try to bring him to our side (if such a thing was possible). I might also pay a visit to my uncle, the judge, to make sure the courts were not used against us.


	7. What was Willed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy reviews his father's will and meets with his solicitor to determine whether he can be removed as Georgiana's guardian.

That night, I had trouble sleeping; I could neither still my mind nor get comfortable enough to be pulled into sleep. It felt like our time in London, which before in my imaginings had been brimming with possibilities, was a greater trial now than what I had faced at Rosings. Finally, well into the night I lapsed into a restless sleep. I awakened several times from half remembered nightmares.

In the one that was clearest, I was a young boy again, locked in a wardrobe in the nursery. All was dark except for a narrow vertical line of light where the doors met, but there was no handle on my side. It was stuffy inside and so hot, but just on the other side of the doors was a baby crying, my sister.

A storm raged outside Pemberley, the booming of thunder and heavy rain pouring down masking my screams and the pounding of my fists. No one could hear me. The wood was too sturdy for me to break through and the pain in my fists merely fueled my fear. I needed to get out both for me and for baby Georgiana. I could hear her desperate cries. Something was horribly wrong, and I could not reach her, and no one came for either of us.

I woke up to Jeffrey shaking me awake, my own screams ringing in my ears, my throat sore. He left when he saw I was sensible once more.

Once I was awake the dream fell apart. Georgiana was not a baby when I was still in the nursery. She was largely a contented babe the beloved of all who attended her, rarely farther than an arm’s reach from my mother except during mealtimes.

I thought I might have been locked in a wardrobe once but my thoughts of such were vague and fragmented. Perhaps it had only been a story, spun by a nursery maid or perhaps I was recalling being stuck in an overturned carriage. I knew that had occurred.

I slept no more that night and at first dawn I arose and resolved to clear my mind by going for a ride. Although I know that fatal injuries are more likely from horseback riding and traveling in open carriages, I cannot bear to be confined in a closed carriage, especially not when my fate is in a coachman's hands, when there is nothing I can do when all goes wrong. Perhaps the dream was telling me another reason why I was that way.

Riding my horse requires concentration with the horse becoming an extension of myself, he reacts with my desired movement before I even give it a conscious thought. Though riding in the city is not the same as riding at Pemberley and no doubt the ringing of my horse's hooves was unwelcome to my later rising neighbors, I could not care. On his back I could travel all the streets I knew so well in my mind.

My riding was something for which I could be proud, my stance everything it ought to be, it was one of the first ways I had earned my father's praise. He taught me about the estate from horseback. We surveyed the fields and the tenants' abodes this way. He even had my portrait taken with me astride in a similar pose to a portrait of him as a young man astride his horse which was of the same line, though not as large as mine. In this respect I was truly my father's son.

I returned sweaty but far more relaxed. While my concerns still weighed on me, they did not seem nearly as horrible as they had the night before.

After bathing and dressing, I penned a quick note to my solicitor, Mr. Zelly the younger, summoning him hither, sending a servant to fetch him in my carriage while I located my copy of my father's will. I was confident that he was wholly loyal, his father having served my father well, the Zellys always having served the Darcys at least since my paternal grandfather’s time. Over breakfast I read through my father’s will and was fairly certain from my perusal that all would be well.

Mr. Zelly arrived at a quarter past nine, no doubt leaving straight away from his arrival at his office. He was rather young to be so bald. He was perhaps in his fourth decade but had no hair but for a ruff of dark hair circling the bottom third of his head, and a rather grand mustache that curled at the ends. He wore spectacles that rested low on his long, thin nose, which he peered through as he read.

I explained, “My aunt, the Countess of Matlock, has been telling my sister that she must marry one of her cousins; I am certain this is all the Earl of Matlock’s doing. I cannot abide bullies and hope I am correct that such a decision as to whom she should marry could never be his to make.”

Mr. Zelly reviewed my father’s will and then gave me his opinion. "Mr. Darcy, your father had a well drafted will, which will serve your sister well. Of course, my father, Lord rest his soul, was well known in using all tools at his disposal. Thank you for your note last year.”

I nodded in acknowledgment and we were both silent for a few moments, remembering his father.

Mr. Zelly returned to the matter at hand, “Miss Darcy cannot marry before her majority without the consent of all living guardians. Your mother was one of her three guardians before she passed, so your sainted father must have anticipated that Mrs. Darcy might die before Miss Darcy’s majority. It also states that if only one guardian remains alive, that Georgiana cannot wed at all until her majority. This is an unusual provision; you must both agree, or no marriage can take place.”

"Could I be removed, thus allowing her to be wed just upon my cousin's authority?"

"Absolutely not, without the matter being taken up with the Court of Chancery.” Mr. Zelly spoke evenly and with confidence. “I do not know how much you know about the chancery process . . . ."

I shrugged. I knew very little.

“It is a long and expensive process. The Lord Chancellor has discretion on outcomes, but that should be in your favor should anyone seek to remove you. Am I correct that one of the most respected of the twelve, Judge Darcy, is the same Henry Darcy referred to in the will as your father’s brother?”

“Yes,” I responded. “He is my uncle.”

“Well, so long as you are on good terms with him, and Judge Darcy would advocate (informally of course) to the Lord Chancellor on your behalf should anyone bring suit to remove you as Miss Darcy’s guardian, I see no cause for concern. So long as you have done your duty by protecting her person and most especially her dowry, there should be no reason to remove you, in any event.”

“Would this prove true even if a peer, such as the Earl of Matlock, sought my removal?”

Mr. Zelly considered, “That would make matters more complicated. However, should the Lord Chancellor not wish to offend the Earl if he were the one to challenge your guardianship, he could simply make sure no decision was made until your sister was one and twenty and then declare the whole matter moot. Additionally, when a guardian is removed, so long as the ward is at least fourteen, she can be heard as to whom she wants appointed as her guardian, so the interested party would not necessarily be named."

“What about the provision below it?” I asked, gesturing at the document. “Is that enforceable as well?”

Mr. Zelly read, “Anyone whosoever challenges or aids in the removal of either of the guardians I have named for Georgiana Darcy on any basis, shall forfeit anything he took under my will.” Then he commented, “While he is not directly named, that provision is clearly aimed at Colonel Fitzwilliam and it ties his hands very nicely. He cannot challenge your co-guardianship, challenge your competency or provide testimony in favor of anyone seeking to do either without forfeiting all he took under your father’s will; his estate would be given to the church instead. As I doubt he took anything under a previous version of your father’s will . . . ?”

“He was provided nothing before,” I responded. 

“Then, even challenging your father’s will, say on the basis of a claim of infirmity at the time of execution, would leave him with nothing. While your guardianship could be overturned, Colonel Fitzwilliam would suffer a cost that I doubt he is willing to bear. Of course,” Mr. Zelly added, “that provision binds you as well and anyone else who took anything under the will; you cannot seek to remove Colonel Fitzwilliam or you would no longer be master of the property you were devised under your father’s will. Pemberley, of course, passed separately to you as your father’s eldest heir under the entail, but you would forfeit everything else.”

Mr. Zelly considered for a moment longer and added, “Miss Darcy could not seek to have either of you removed, or she would forfeit her dowry. If Judge Darcy served the Court of Chancery and aided in a ruling against you, he might thereby have his ownership of his house in town challenged by you, for if memory serves right, he purchased it shortly after he must have received the funds provided him under your father’s will. While I doubt the Lord Chancellor would rule against Judge Darcy, such a suit would prove most embarrassing. Too, under the will all of your relatives received something; perhaps nothing all that substantial, but they would risk its replevin should they seek to divest you of the guardianship of your sister and the bad press accompanying it. As you were the beneficiary of the residuary, anything they forfeited would be due back to you.”

I asked another question that had occurred to me. “Would the same process, going before the Court of Chancery, be necessary if someone was to be declared a lunatic and have his property held by another?”

“Yes. In the case of lunatics, such decisions about declaring someone legally incompetent and naming a guardian to manage his lands, go before the Court of Chancery, but the final arbiter of such cases is the House of Lords. For idiots, the final arbiter is the King himself. Is there a particular situation to which this question pertains?”

I hesitated to tell him too many particulars about Anne’s situation. “While certainly, my primary concern is for the well-being of my sister, I have a cousin who is an heiress who might well be considered a . . .”

I hesitated to name Anne as either an idiot or a lunatic. I finally settled for “a defective,” which was the same term I had applied to myself more than once. How horrible it was to be less than, to have the troubles I had!

“Her mother handles all her affairs, but it is my understanding that the Earl of Matlock was named as her guardian along with her mother and mine, in her father’s will. Perhaps because of her infirmity, he would be considered her guardian still, although she is well into her majority. We have reason to believe he might seek to have her marry one of his sons. Her mother has asked for my assistance in protecting her.”

The solicitor narrowed his eyes slightly and said, “The Court of Chancery does not look kindly upon a guardian seeking to marry a ward or marry her to his sons, especially if she has substantial property. This would provide grounds for removal, but should the marriage take place, it would likely be affirmed, although management of the property might be awarded to someone else. But, the same difficulties I have described for any case brought before the Chancery would apply.”

“And as for my property, is there a better way to safeguard it?” I inquired.

“It depends on your goals. Under the terms of your existing will, Georgiana is your heir until you marry and have issue. While Pemberley itself passes under the terms of the entail, which would permit your sister to inherit it if you died without issue, it cannot be encumbered or sold. The newer properties which can be devised are only conditionally granted to her as life estates, with the remainder to her oldest son, or if no son, her oldest daughter, and if none of those, the remainder goes back to the Darcy line. Under the terms, even if her husband manages that property for her child, he would have no right to sell any of it. The income from the properties would be hers, of course, past what is needed to manage all the properties."

I felt myself relax and bid accompany me to the music room so that he could likewise tell Georgiana this news. As we walked hither, I explained to Mr. Zelly, “I wish you to focus on the fact that my sister cannot be forced to marry anyone based solely on Edwin's authority and then we will return to my study so we can discuss some other documents I need drafted.”

Georgiana immediately paled upon seeing us and rose up from the piano forte bench. In demeanor she appeared far younger in her demeanor than she usually did. It occurred to me that she seemed just her own age, sixteen. She who most often must reassure me was now the one in need, taking refuge by tucking herself close to Mrs. Annesley.

“Is anything the matter?” Georgiana asked?

“Certainly not,” I replied.

We all sat down, Mr. Zelly almost immediately began, telling her “Your father planned well. In his will he established that both your brother and cousin must consent before you can be married, and the chances of such arrangement being overthrown by the Court of Chancery is low indeed.”

I added in an attempt to reassure her further, “I would never have you marry where you would not be happy.”

I saw her collapse towards Mrs. Annesley, relief writ large upon her face. I was so happy the I could serve her well now, offer her the succor she needed. Georgiana asked Mr. Zelly a few questions and after I was certain she was satisfied, we left them and returned to my study.

Once we were back inside, Mr. Zelly asked me what further services I needed. I explained, “Lately, I am courting a Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Hertfordshire, the daughter of a country squire by the name of Thomas Bennet. I wish the necessary settlement documents prepared for when the arrangements are finalized; but such matter must be held in strict confidence.”

“All I do for you and yours always is kept private,” Mr. Zelly responded.

I added, “I should also like a revision made to my will to take effect after I marry; I think, perhaps, it would be right to have my new wife and sister share a joint life estate, and have my children then succeed to it all. I wish to ensure that my wife, children and sister will be well served should I die before them. I want whatever arrangement would provide the most protection and prevent what belongs to me and mine ever falling under the Earl of Matlock’s control.”

Mr. Zelly nodded, “I shall certainly be able to do that.” We then made arrangements to meet later in the week. 

I thanked Mr. Zelly and escorted himself out of my study myself. Before leaving him in my butler's capable hands, I soundly thanked him and bid him charge me double the normal amount for granting my sister such quick relief from her fears.

"No need, Mr. Darcy." Mr. Zelly’s voice was even and sure as he pushed his spectacles up with one finger. "It was my pleasure to reassure her. It is a terrible thing when young ones barely ready to be out are forced into marriages not of their own choosing. I have two young daughters myself."


	8. Serving as Host

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth and Darcy spend some time together under the supervision of Mrs. Gardiner and catch each other up on what has occurred since they were last in company.

Although I contemplated trying to call on my uncle the judge that day to secure his aid against any nefarious plots against me and mine, I felt unequal to this additional task so soon and so instead spent some time alone reviewing the ledger of expenses for the house and then ensconced myself in my chambers with a book. I emerged refreshed, in ample time to greet our guests, feeling equal to my tasks as host.

Both Georgiana and I were ready for them well before it was time. In the interim, while Georgiana was perhaps a bit more subdued than usual, she brightened when she saw Miss Elizabeth and the three other ladies. Mrs. Gardiner did all that was proper in thanking us for the honor of the invitation and within minutes was discussing sewing patterns with Mrs. Annesley and Georgiana had paired off with Miss Lucas to talk about whatever might be of interest to young ladies their age, leaving me to talk with the Miss Bennets.

I attempted to engage Miss Bennet in conversation, asked things such as, “How have you spent your time in London?” It was well that Georgiana had mentioned the day before that she seemed sad, as I might have attributed her quiet responses to a recent illness or simply a lack of interest. Miss Bennet mentioned a play she had seen but provided naught but the name. She mentioned some squares she had walked but said nothing else of note.

Miss Elizabeth tried to draw her out. "Jane has not mentioned that much of her time has been occupied entertaining our young cousins."

I asked Miss Bennet about them and was rewarded with their names and a brief description of what they were like. I was able to contribute, “As for myself, I have five male Fitzwilliam cousins, four of them currently in town, but all of them are grown now.”

Miss Elizabeth added, “I met one of them in Kent, Colonel Fitzwilliam.”

The conversation lacked all zest, was decidedly dull, but then Miss Bennet asked after Bingley in a decidedly different tone than before, "I know you only arrived two days ago, but have you happened to see your friends the Bingleys?"

I should have anticipated the question but was able to answer calmly enough that I had. "Yes, I dined with Bingley, Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst."

Replied she, all in a rush, her face taking on a flush as she spoke, "Based on our friendship in Hertfordshire, I called on Miss Bingley and she briefly returned the call. I called on her a second time and spent a pleasant half an hour with her, Mrs. Hurst and another caller, but she seemed not in spirits. I thought perhaps I had caught her at an inconvenient time, but when I attempted to call again, I was told she was not at home and she nevermore returned my call. I believe she has no interest in continuing our acquaintance. As for Mr. Bingley I have not seen him once, though I understand from my sister that you have attempted to clarify our misunderstanding."

I had no reply to give, except a bit of intelligence that I knew she would not wish to hear, but I provided it anyway, for one does not shoot a horse that must be put down in stages, "I asked Mr. Bingley if he might want to dine with us this evening, but he declined."

Upon receiving my information, Miss Bennet’s lips came together and stayed together, and nothing more did she speak. I wanted to cheer her but knew not how. I also wanted to speak with Miss Elizabeth yet feared it would make her elder sister sadder still (if indeed that was what she was feeling) to see our happiness on full display.

Fortunately, Mrs. Gardiner seemed to be monitoring the other interactions in the room, for she bid Miss Bennet to join her and Mrs. Annesley across the room, noting “Jane you must tell Mrs. Annesley of the shirt you have been sewing for my youngest boy.” Miss Bennet seemed to contribute little, but such was a much safer topic and let me exchange a few quiet words with Miss Elizabeth, who now sat beside me.

Although I wanted to talk of us and did not have much real interest in Miss Bennet's concerns, I imagined Miss Elizabeth was worried for her sister, much as I would be. We exchanged a whispered conversation, with me beginning "Miss Bennet seems not much in spirits."

"Yes, I believe she was pinning much of her hope on you being able to resolve matters between her and Mr. Bingley."

"I tried," I told Miss Elizabeth. “I know not whether she should be told of this, but Bingley says he has decided he never truly cared for her. Also, he is much occupied in his new role of partnership with his uncle. He seems to have found just how he may grow their carriage business and improve it. Georgiana has mentioned trying to arrange a meeting between them, but I think Bingley would not welcome our interference."

"If his mind is decided,” said she, “there is nothing to be done. I wish Jane could find a way to move forward, open her heart to other suitors. Do you think she might turn the head of one of your cousins?” Immediately she answered herself, “Forgive me, I should not have asked, I imagine that would be her seeking too much elevation."

"While that would be an issue, recent developments make me think no one should be matched with my Fitzwilliam cousins. Their mother's and father's schemes for arranging marriages to benefit their family have been distressing indeed."

"Of what do you speak?" Miss Elizabeth’s eyes widened, and she grasped my arm with her gloved hand. I immediately glanced at Mrs. Gardiner. Had she seen Miss Elizabeth’s hand upon my arm? If she had, she ignored it.

I explained "My aunt told my sister it was her duty to wed one of her cousins and that the Colonel as her guardian would arrange it. While I do not think Edwin would act in this way, my solicitor was able to ascertain such was impossible under the exacting terms of my father's will without removing me as guardian and such an action was unlikely to occur if the matter were taken to Court of Chancery."

"I am grieved that they would try to impose their will upon her, but glad that it cannot come to pass," Miss Elizabeth responded.

"Additionally, is clear from our interactions last night that my uncle and aunt still have not given up on my being matched to Anne, but I will never wed my cousin." I slid my hand to the space between us on the sofa and briefly held her hand. "There is only one bride,” squeeze, “for,” squeeze, “me," squeeze.

Miss Elizabeth smiled, continuing to hold my hand although I had already released my hold on her. She replied, "and only one husband for me,” also squeezing my hand on the last three words and then not letting go. Again, my eyes searched out her aunt and chaperone to see if our display would merit her disapproval. Again, she seemed to not be looking in our direction.

Miss Elizabeth must have noticed my furtive glances at her aunt, for she then said, "I imagine my uncle gave you a talk about proprieties, but my aunt made it known to me that she has no objection to us holding hands."

I tightened my grip upon hers, "Then I shall endeavor to hold it always, as much as you will allow." We held each other's gaze for a few moments until the intensity of it forced me to look away for a moment and then rest my eyes upon her forehead instead.

"My uncle let me see his missive to my father before he sent it yesterday,” Miss Elizabeth told me. I paid close attention then. “It was sensible and kind.” I felt the tension caused by her first set of words soften with the second.

“Uncle Gardiner informed Papa that we were courting under his supervision, assured him that you seem to have a strong regard for me and was quick to reassure him that he, Uncle, was taking all steps to ensure that we observed all proprieties. Additionally, Uncle Gardiner wrote that you had mentioned many untruths had been told about you in Meryton, but that all his inquires in town about you revealed naught of concern to him. He explained that you were viewed as a serious man, not given to frivolity or dissipation, always quick to pay your bills, a loyal brother and a favored employer. He also wrote that you had impressed him with your earnestness, your regard for my well-being and that,” here she seemed to quote for she said the next in a different tone that might be meant to emulate her uncle’s speaking voice, “as you have doubtless been wondering, your daughter’s interest in the match seems to be all about having a genuine fondness for the man and not have anything to do with his wealth."

"What impact do you think such a letter will have on your father?" I asked.

"Much more than one from Mr. Collins. I know my father does not think _him_ a sensible man. In all likelihood, I feel almost certain that any letter he receives from _that_ source will be merely provide him with amusement. My father has a great deal of respect for my uncle."

Miss Elizabeth gave a little sigh and added, "I wish I knew if the talk in Meryton about you still remains the same or if it has turned to other things. I am so very sorry now for any role I or my sisters played in discussing such things with our neighbors. It was badly done on our part and we both pay the price now. I know Mr. Bingley's visit and continued endorsement of you may have changed some minds and then there are always new babies being born, new marriages anticipated and new entertainments to be sought.

“My sisters’ letters provide no information on the matter, are only filled with their own concerns. For Kitty and Lydia, it is who they have most recently danced with, what the handsome militiamen are up to with Mr. Wickham and Mr. Denny remaining their particular favorites, for Mary it is the latest bit of morality she has absorbed and now desires to impart to me."

"Have you warned them of Wickham?" I asked.

"In a general sort of way. Too much warning on anything and they would accuse me of moralizing like Mary, believe I only wish to stop their fun. I wish my mother was as sensible as Aunt Gardiner. My uncle certainly showed a tremendous amount of discernment in selecting her for his bride. I do not understand how my uncle can be as he is and my mother and Aunt Phillips so silly. Heaven forbid I should have children like them, or Kitty or Lydia."

"They are young yet, perhaps they may surprise you,” I tried to be optimistic.

"Perhaps, yet I imagine your sister Georgiana was never like them."

We could not be only left to converse with one another, so after a bit Georgiana suggested we visit the music room. I enjoyed admiring Miss Elizabeth as she played at the piano (and of course my sister took her turn also). As a group we sang some merry tunes. I imagined spending time like this, but in the more intimate circle of just Georgiana, myself, and Miss Elizabeth after she became my bride. Such a circle would be complete, though I would have no objection to the company of her aunt and uncle on occasion. The time passed away most pleasantly and before long Mr. Gardiner had joined us and it was almost time for dinner.

Dinner with our guests was surprisingly pleasant. Miss Lucas was delighted by all of the dishes (my cook had outdone herself), and each of us men folk had the pleasure of making sure the ladies had the best of everything.

Our party was rather lopsided with so many more ladies than men. I had a momentary wish that Bingley and Edwin could be in attendance but bringing Bingley would have added two more ladies and I did not know where I stood with Edwin. Did he share in his mother's scheme? I resolved that I must find out.

I silently concurred with Georgiana's assessment that Mrs. Gardiner was just what a mother should be, although in noting this it made me sad that Georgiana had not had as much time with our mother as she ought to have had. Mrs. Gardiner was an amiable, intelligent, elegant woman. She helped keep the conversation flowing by both knowing when to turn the conversation and when to listen. I perceived a great regard between the Miss Bennets and her.

Mr. Gardiner, too, exceeded my expectations. In our earlier conversation I had been too anxious to think overly much about what he was like. Now I noticed he was well bred and agreeable. When I entered into conversation with him, I noted that every sentence he spoke marked his intelligence, his taste or his good manners. All in all, the evening passed away pleasantly, and Georgiana and I made plans to call and escort the others around the following afternoon.

As I lay in my bed that night, I imagined what it would be like to have Miss Elizabeth there with me. While I had some nervousness about the intimacy the marital bed would entail, I had less fear of it. Now when I pictured that event it began with a repeat of the kisses we had shared, but there was no need to pull back and instead of a small voice urging restraint, there was a stronger voice urging me to kiss her everywhere, to trace the geography of her contours, to discover the secrets that lay below her garments, secrets that waited for me. Too, I could picture her touching me intimately and the good sensations I would feel. I remembered her soft sigh after we kissed and desired to hear it again, to hear the other sounds she might make. Though a small part of me feared her derision, I was fast becoming deaf to it. I fell asleep to such pleasant thoughts.

As I slowly came awake in the morning, I half believed Miss Elizabeth was now my wife and was present in my bed, her dark hair of an indeterminant length spread about her head, me winding a curl of hers round and round my fingers. This fancy was because I still half-dwelled in the remembrance of a pleasant dream about our married life.

We were having a picnic at Pemberley in late spring or perhaps early summer for the gardens were green and many flowers of varied hues were blooming, the fields beyond (which I could somehow see as well, although they are not truly visible from Pemberley’s gardens as blocked by taller shrubs) showed the verdant hue of crops growing well, the distance hills which appeared more blue than green in the distance were filled with leafy trees, the skies were a robin's egg blue dotted with small while clouds, like sheep spread across a blue field. Nearby were three or four dark haired young children that I knew were ours. Most played placidly, while one more solemn lad reclined and read.

In the dream Elizabeth was right beside me. We had discarded our gloves and our fingers were intertwined. Her belly had a curve suggesting another little one was growing there. She smiled at me and I felt supremely happy. All had worked out and I could not even remember what the former difficulties had been. While it was disappointing to awake fully to my empty bed, the promise of the dream left me contented.


	9. Testing Edwin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy and Edwin discuss the situation with Georgiana; Edwin reassures Georgiana of his loyalty; Darcy and Georgiana come up with a way to test Edwin's loyalty and then Darcy tells Edwin about his engagement to Elizabeth; Darcy and Georgiana bring Edwin with them to call on the Gardiners.

After I dressed, I resolved to go see my cousin Edwin. I hoped he was recovered from his morose mood from two days before and furthermore I hoped he would reject his parents' schemes and be like a brother to me again. While I did not feel like calling on Edwin at his parents' house, I knew that was the best way to find him. I resolved to call early, knowing that he usually rose before the rest of his family who firmly kept town hours. Fortunately, when I arrived, he was dressed and willing to see me.

I requested, “Edwin, I should like to talk away from listening ears.”

He replied, “I suppose then that we should retire to the old nursery as there should be no one about in that part of the house.”

As there were no young Fitzwilliams, aside from the furniture the nursery was largely empty. We settled side by side in a couple of rocking chairs the nursery staff likely had used to soothing crying babies.

Edwin said, "This is a good place to talk, and no one would anticipate my presence here. We shall be quite undisturbed. Did you wish to scold me for my unseemly display after dinner? I have chastised myself enough already, men are always to be strong, I should not mourn in front of anyone and I am ashamed you saw that.”

I made no answer, so he continued, “Did you wish to make me feel more guilt for my part in harming Sylvia? I know the wrongness of my actions, but never particularly thought about the fact that I should have acted differently when she came to me. I thought she was seeking the position of my mistress but even if she was, you are correct that I had the power to do more for her, should have been better than I am, for the memory of my sisters and the love they had for her. I have thought of little else since I awoke yesterday.”

Again, I made no response, so he addressed another possible concern, “Or perhaps you wish to berate me for making such poor choices, for blindly following my father's example. Do you come to tell me to absent myself fully from you and Georgiana?"

I remained silent. I had not thought to do any of these things, not really thought at all about what Edwin was thinking and feeling, only hoped he was feeling better. I rocked in my chair a little as I thought.

"I am quite at my leisure, go ahead and condemn me." Edwin hung his head and placed his face in his hands, his sandy hair falling forward to conceal his fingers, with his elbows resting on his knees, his chair dipping forward.

"It is not my intention to do so," I replied. "I simply wished to see how you are doing and wanted to ascertain whether you agreed with the plans your mother stated to Georgiana, that when she comes out in society, she must marry one of your brothers."

"I am doing poorly,” Edwin told me. “I am feeling haunted by many things, but I would much rather discuss your concerns than keep dwelling in my condemning thoughts and continue to wonder what I should do about Sylvia now, if indeed there is anything to be done."

But then rather than address my concerns, Edwin rocked a bit, the chair squeaking and then continued to address the direction of his own thoughts. "I have no wish to give Sylvia up, she belongs to me now and anything I could do now cannot change the past. With her place in the world as it is presently, should I give her up she would likely only seek another lover. The players might change, but not the game."

Edwin straightened up, stopped the chair's movement and looked at me. "I know my father hopes Georgiana will wed one of my brothers and hopes beyond her dowry she will also gain the ultimate prize of Pemberley and keep it within our family. There are so many of us that my father cannot provide for me and my brothers in anything close to the manner of his heir. Thus, you see that in my family for me there was the cavalry, for my brothers a living in the church, a position in the government and being a barrister with the hope of someday becoming a judge.”

He noted, “There are certainly plenty of us should something happen to my eldest brother, but now that he is married, I expect his wife will do her duty and all of substance shall pass through his line. The rest of us should all try to marry well as a brother with children of his own will not be as generous with us as a father.”

Edwin added, “If Georgiana's wishes should align with my father's, surely there is no harm in that. Not all expect a love match, and my brothers are all capital fellows that are known to her. Many women marry knowing far less of what to expect from their grooms. Cousins often marry."

I grew increasingly frustrated as he talked. Edwin seemed willfully determined to place his parents’ schemes in the best possible light. I was not willing to do the same. "Your mother did not speak of wishes or hopes, but of definite expectations that regardless of Georgiana's wishes, she must pick her groom only among the four of you, and that this could best be facilitated by removing me as her guardian and you forcing the issue."

Edwin scrunched up his face, showing lines I did not know his face to possess, bit one finger and shook his head. "While I might encourage her to look with favor upon one of my brothers, the same as I have encouraged you to do what father suggested, I would never force her to wed one of them, and no matter how advantageous I could never seek her hand, she is as a sister to me as you well know.

“I also know of no reason why your guardianship should be terminated, would take no action to remove you. Your care of Georgiana is always exacting, the affection you share obvious. Whatever difficulties you have, it is not in lacking understanding of how to protect her."

Although Mr. Zelly’s counsel had been reassuring, I was still worried that my failure to fully protect Georgiana from George Wickham could still be used against us. I needed to know if Edwin’s mother’s knowledge of the matter stemmed from him. "Your mother knew about George's attempt to elope with Georgiana. I thought we agreed to keep that secret."

I rocked in my chair, the movement giving me something to do, soothing some of my agitation. I contemplated how odd it would be to have a similar chair in my rooms at Pemberley, even as I felt a craving to obtain one for myself.

Edwin’s rocking chair remained still as he scrunched his face once more. "I have told no one about that event. Do you think, perhaps, the source is George Wickham?"

That thought had not occurred to me before. "Perhaps. Would you come with me to visit Georgiana and offer your reassurances? Yesterday morning I consulted with my solicitor and his counsel about the difficulty there would be in removing me was reassuring, but I am sure she would feel better knowing that you would never strive to force her to marry one of your brothers against her will."

"Of course," Edwin stood up, brushed off his breeches (which had no dust) and appeared ready to depart. "I am relieved that you believe me and am happy to offer her any reassurance I can. I wish I thought that it was a simple misunderstanding between her and my mother, but I know my father doubtless was speaking through her as my mother often acts as a channel for his designs. Let us go see Georgiana at once."

Edwin spoke his words of reassurance with such fervor to Georgiana, that I was at least somewhat reassured that he was not an active participant in such a scheme, but at the same time I questioned whether I could truly judge whether he was acting a part.

I, myself, find dissembling difficult, find it far easier to deny than play a convoluted game to fool others, but because of this I worried that I would not know if Edwin was being honest with me. Perhaps he was genuinely distressed on Georgiana’s behalf but would still act to please and placate his father by doing what he bid when called upon to do so.

However, Georgiana seemed to have no such reservations and to be most happy to be in Edwin’s company again. She told him, “In an hour or so we are to visit Miss Elizabeth and her relatives. Surely you must come with us to renew your acquaintance with her and then spend the rest of the day with us.”

After she had issued the invitation, I could hardly rescind it though I did not add my own invitation. Edwin gave me a long look during which I was silent before he agreed.

I was not sure I wanted Edwin around Miss Elizabeth and her kin. True, he was uniformly charming and a good conversationalist. They would all likely enjoy what he would contribute. I worried, though, that he would take back up the mantle of his old role without much thought or that in comparison with him, her family would see all my flaws.

I also was not entirely convinced Edwin had no designs on Miss Elizabeth. Had he been entirely honest in his letter? Our discussion while he was in his cups suggested that he had blithely written it without the same deep contemplation I gave to all my personal letters.

Could a man with no interest speak to me as he had about her? Also, how would Miss Elizabeth interpret me arriving with a man I had told her not to trust? Perhaps, though, I had been too hasty in issuing such a warning. While with the information I had then, I was certain I had been correct to act that way at the time, but perhaps now I would need to withdraw it. I had not many that I truly considered family and did not wish to lose the companion of my youth. If we could heal our breach and I could resolve to myself that aside from some lapses he was truly a good man, that would be grand indeed.

However, for all I knew he was still lying to me now and I simply lacked the ability to perceive it. If so, would I be able to discover this later?

There was also the added difficulty in having him join us for a visit that even now it had surely occurred to Edwin that matters had proceeded further with Miss Elizabeth. And when he saw us together, it would be obvious that I was at least courting her, and if he saw us holding hands . . . I was almost certain he knew about the three squeezes and what they meant, even if no one had even given them to him.

Would Edwin tell his father about whatever he perceived about my future plans with Miss Elizabeth? I did not want even more pressure placed upon me by the Earl, although I knew I was my own man. I had no wish to meet with the Earl again while in town and then be lectured on my duty.

I felt the need to consult with Georgiana about what I ought to do regarding Edwin. While I would not discuss the specifics of Edwin's depraved actions with her, she could still aid me in deciding on a future course of action.

I was silent in these contemplations for a long while, while Georgiana chatted happily enough with Edwin, though not, I was pleased to note, about Miss Elizabeth and me. I did pay attention when Miss Elizabeth's name was mentioned, but fortunately it was only regarding Anne's lessons. Georgiana told Edwin all about their progress with Anne and about her surprising skill at the piano forte.

Edwin chortled at Georgiana’s lively recitation of how it all came to pass, then asked, "Did Anne truly say she was a true proficient just as her mother anticipated her to be?" At Georgiana's nod and smile, he grinned widely. "Who would have thought it, well even an unwound clock is right twice a day."

Georgiana gave a slight laugh, then asked, "Is the unwound clock Lady Catherine? I would rather have thought she is too tightly wound."

They were both silent for a moment before they both began to laugh. While I did not join in their laughter, I treasured their easy rapport and the pleasant moment only deepened my wish to keep Edwin as our close family.

It was not long after that time when I asked Georgiana if she would help me find a book from the library. Edwin gave me a look and then said, "There is no need for you to go for your talk. I am the one who taught you, 'would you join me in the library.' I will leave if that is what you want."

"No Edwin," I stopped him with a raised hand, "I just need to sort out some things with Georgiana, we will return to your company ere too long."

I did indeed go to the library to with Georgiana to discuss Edwin and such was my caution that I locked the door and resolved to speak softly. Our library in town was much smaller than the one at Pemberley, quite a narrow room, but every wall was filled with books, to eleven feet in the air, save the space needed for the single window and the window seat. However, just above that window, there were additional shelves with books. I was quite fond of the library, although the smell of old books tickled my nostrils, it felt safe in there.

Before we even sat down before the window Georgiana asked, "Did I make a mistake inviting Edwin to join us in visiting the Gardiners?"

"I do not rightly know," I responded. "I wish you to use all your skills of discernment to help me decide how we should treat him, if he is being genuine."

Her eyes widened, "Do you think he was dissembling when he told us that he would not use his power as my guardian to force a marriage with one of his brothers?"

"I hope not, but he certainly has mixed loyalties, both to our father and his father and mother. Too, he must have some loyalty to me and you, but also owes loyalty to his brothers. I do not doubt that he cares for your happiness, but would he sacrifice that if he thought he ought over a deeper loyalty to the Earl? While Mr. Zelly thinks it nigh on impossible to remove me before you reach your majority, I know not whether the Lord Chancellor can be bought and as for an unwilling marriage, priests can be bribed and after the marital bed, there is no escape whether the bride wished to be wed or not. I do not wish to distress you by bringing up such things, but I know I am not good at determining when someone lies."

Georgiana sat down at the window seat and I sat next to her. She responded, "I know Edwin to be loyal, but your question is to whom he is most loyal."

"Yes, that is the heart of it."

She turned away from me, fiddling with the tied back curtains which were a deep blue, then turned half toward the window. "Edwin certainly has filial loyalty and resides with his parents while in town. They provide him with an allowance and purchased his commissions, but has he not spent the greater bulk of his time when not in the cavalry with you and me? Especially after father died and remembered him in his will, giving him means of support other than that profession. Since he resigned his commission, he has been far more often in your company than in that of his father’s."

"Yes, since that time he has mostly been with me, the both of us when we are together."

"How well does his estate do? Could he live from the income of it alone, or is the allowance he receives still necessary?"

I considered the matter. Although Bartley was small compared to Pemberley, it was larger than my Aunt Matilda's property, perhaps two thirds the size of the Longbourn estate. It also was well maintained with a smart house and flat, well irrigated fields that could grow many crops. It lay on the other side of Lambton from Pemberley.

"Yes, well enough, although perhaps not in the manner the son of an Earl would expect. He has never lived upon it, the house is closed up. I believe the profits have been used to improve the land and purchase additional fields."

Georgiana considered further, then said, "Oh!" She rose to her feet in excitement perhaps, but before I could rise also, she sat down once more. "I believe the answer lies in whether we can trust Father's judgment! We can, can we not?"

I was confused and Georgiana must have understood that because she began explaining, "From among our relatives Father selected Edwin to be my guardian and to help you and rewarded him with an estate which provided him with independence but tied us closer to him as it is located near our home and not his father's lands.”

I nodded; she was not telling me anything knew.

She continued, “You have said before that father left detailed plans for ensuring Pemberley’s ongoing prosperity and the solicitor yesterday said the careful drafting of my guardianship was designed to protect me from being forced to marry. If Father planned so well in those things and made Edwin necessary in his plans for us, does not that mean we should trust Edwin just as Father trusted him?"

I considered my previous thoughts about Father's plans. They had seemed officious and high handed. I thought he did not trust my judgment. However, in most ways the plans he made for Pemberley were sound and judicious. While I had determined to assert myself now and make some changes, simply because I could, in large part these would likely be simply minor adjustments based on things that had changed since his death, most of which could not be anticipated.

Father’s plans for Edwin to help me had made my life easier, had provided me with protection and were not absolute. Perhaps he hoped for calm weather but had prepared for every potential storm.

I also considered where things had gone awry and whether my father’s plans might bear any responsibility for such things. My father was not the one who had hired Mrs. Younge; Edwin and I had, based on the recommendation of the Earl. In contrast, Mrs. Annesley was the sister of Georgiana's governess, a woman who if she had not married likely would have stayed on to become her companion. Had I not trusted Mrs. Annesley partially because my father trusted her sister?

However, I did not think my father’s judgment infallible. He had hired Governess Hayes to care for me and retained her when mother would not have, and had employed George Wickham to be my friend but should I overthrow my perceptions of his generally good judgment from those two acts? George's father was a hardworking, diligent steward who was loyal to my father and in most cases the son is like the father, though perhaps George was more like his mother?

But if blood will tell, making a son like to his parents, what hope was there for Edwin? Did that mean Edwin was like the Earl?

I was confusing myself and directed my thoughts back to those in my father's employ. He had hired Nurse Storey and Mr. Stowbaugh for me, promoted Jeffrey to be my valet and virtually everyone in my employ were either those that he had put in place, like Mrs. Reynolds or my steward, or hired by me upon the recommendation of those he chose. How much more careful would he have been in choosing one to protect his son and daughter?

Although Edwin had not behaved towards Miss Vaughn as he ought and had said crude things about Miss Elizabeth, might have pushed too hard for what his father wanted while we were at Rosings, in the end he had explained himself, had not insisted on his role and at least for now was allowing me to conduct my own life.

Edwin wanted to make sure Anne would be cared for and must have seen that a marriage to me would have done that. He had also cried for his sisters, believed my father had wanted him to have a sister in Georgiana and even now was questioning his actions towards Miss Vaughn. He had every reason to conceal these things from me, yet he had shared with me such difficult things, did not just tell me what I wanted to hear. Were these not the marks of a brother?

Georgiana remained silent while I thought. Finally, I responded. "I want to trust Father's judgment, but his judgment while generally good is not flawless. I want to believe Edwin is as a brother to us, but I do not want to blindly trust."

"Ye shall know them by their fruits," Georgiana quoted, adding "we are to be 'wise as serpents and harmless as doves.' I think we should trust Father and try to trust Edwin but be cautious."

I nodded in acknowledgement in the verses she quoted from the Bible; those were wise words, But I felt obliged to ask, "Would it make any difference to you, if you knew Edwin is not entirely proper toward women in both words and deed?"

She gave me a look, "Does he have a mistress like the Earl?"

I startled, aghast, "What do you know of such things?" I was very embarrassed.

Georgiana blushed. "I may not know exactly what that means, but . . ." she paused and whispered, facing away from me and looking out the window, "I know it is marital relations outside of marriage, touching under clothes, causing a woman to be fallen."

She turned back to me, her face still flushed, though she spoke more normally, "Aunt Emmeline explained a bit after I told her I almost eloped with George; it was shortly after when we were last in town. She wanted to make sure I was undamaged. Do not fear, the most George did was kiss my hand and speak ardent words of love. I wish I had never told her, but who was I supposed to speak with about such things? Aunt Matilda? Lady Catherine? Certainly not Anne or the girls from my school! You had just hired Mrs. Annesley and I knew not how much I could share with her."

"So that is how she knew about George." Neither Edwin nor I had considered the possibility that his mother’s knowledge had come from my sister.

"Yes, I am sorry I told her. Perhaps Lady Catherine would have been a better choice, but we have seen her less often. I hope that will change; I wish to spend more time with Anne, to help her where I can."

"I wish to as well."

"You did not answer me, does Edwin have a mistress?"

I was still embarrassed but answered, "Yes, but I wish to speak no more about it."

Georgiana nodded, she was silent for a while, considering. "It does not change me wanting to trust him, does not change my desire for him to be a brother to us (like a brother that is, I should not want him to become a brother-in-law). It might be different if I were considering him as a potential husband but as I am not . . . ."

Our talk had gone far off course, I needed to get it back to the last topic I wanted to address with her. "What should we tell Edwin about my relationship with Miss Elizabeth? Is it wise to bring him on the visit with us? Let him accompany us on our outing?"

"Perhaps I should not have issued the invitation without discussing it with you, but as it is already done, I do not want to rescind it without reason. But perhaps, it might offer us an opportunity to test his loyalties. Tell Edwin the truth, that you are engaged but still need her father's permission and her uncle is letting you court her under his supervision. Swear him to secrecy. Then if the Earl speaks of it to you, you will know where Edwin's loyalties lie."

"Such a test may work but it is not foolproof. I asked Lady Catherine to not share the news outside of Kent, but it is not so far from London that the news may not yet spread. How will I know for sure if the Earl speaks of it that he has not learned it from a different source?"

Georgiana drummed her fingers against the glass and then said, "You must tell him a falsehood as well, something plausible that the Earl might wish to work to his advantage."

I waited while Georgiana considered what sort of falsehood it should be. "I think I know just what you should say, but perhaps I should be the one to actually say it. What if we were to tell him that Miss Elizabeth's father wants Miss Bennet to wed first, but that Mr. Bingley broke her heart, so you are determined to put them back together?"

I turned the idea over in my mind, considering it from many directions before responding, "I do not like to lie, but I do not see how it could harm anyone if I tell Bingley about it and assure him that nothing could be further from the truth, that I will not interfere in his choices. Likely Miss Elizabeth and I will wed before Miss Bennet shall be ready to even consider another suitor, so even if such a rumor about her broken heart comes out it should not hurt her chances and in truth, Bingley raised such expectations that this would seem to be in line with what the people of Hertfordshire might suspect, but for the order of how the sisters must wed.”

Georgiana reassured me, “Did you not tell me that there was a general expectation in Hertfordshire that they would wed? At worst, you would simply be passing on such a rumor that he disappointed her. Even if this might cause some temporary disparagement of her in London, all would be forgotten soon and even so, Miss Bennet’s chances to wed well should improve above what they were before upon your marriage to her sister."

When we returned to Edwin he looked sad, but Georgiana soon had him smiling when she said, "Brother and I have been discussing what we ought to tell you before you meet the Gardiners."

Edwin responded, "I am curious about Miss Elizabeth's other relatives, given what I have learned of her and her parents."

I decided to assert myself and not let Georgiana dominate the conversation, even though it would be easier to do so. I wanted Edwin to know I was my own man. "It is not primarily them which I want to talk to you about, but I must have your word that what I am about to tell you will not leave your lips, that no one else will learn of it."

Edwin wrinkled his brow but nodded. "If you will trust me, I will tell no one."

"You must congratulate me; Miss Elizabeth has consented to be my wife."

"I am happy to congratulate you." Edwin smiled slightly. "You knew what you wanted, and you have obtained it. I thought it was likely when I left. She defended you strongly enough, although I was not certain if you would gain her heart."

I responded, "Our courtship was briefer than I expected. While I knew my feelings early, I was surprised for them to be returned so rapidly. I have won both her heart and hand. However, given that I have not asked her father's permission yet, her relatives are strict supervisors in our courtship. In a few days she will return to her home and Bingley has given me permission to stay at Netherfield, the estate he rented that adjoins her father’s lands. I ask for your secrecy on this matter and some other matters that I am about to relate.”

“You shall have it,” Edwin told me, his hand pressed to his breast in either an expression of sincerity or a show of it.

“While there are several obstacles I anticipate, the first is that her parents wish her elder sister, Miss Jane Bennet, to marry before her. All might have gone smoothly with this as Bingley was informally courting Miss Bennet while we were yet at Netherfield. However, due to a misunderstanding regarding me, Bingley broke off their budding courtship and it has left Miss Bennet devastated. I am going to see about repairing the breach as Miss Bennet and Bingley were well suited."

"And the other matters?"

I decided to share what George had done. He had no respect for the rogue and in this matter, he was sure to be loyal to me. "I am not sure whether I have mentioned it, but George Wickham is a lieutenant in the militia currently stationed outside of Meryton, right close to the Bennets' home, Longbourn, and Netherfield. George spread some nasty rumors about my childhood behaviors and did his best to suggest I am not much improved. I have reason to believe that some have caught Mr. Bennet's ear. In terms of fortune, I am certainly a favorable match, but as Miss Elizabeth did not look favorably upon me back then I have reason to be concerned it may be more difficult to earn his consent than it should be. Miss Elizabeth is his particular favorite."

I paused as I considered the other difficulties and how to summarize them. "Additionally, Mr. Collins has probably written Mr. Bennet a letter regarding our engagement which was meant to stay secret. A private moment between me and Miss Elizabeth was observed and became fodder for some local gossip in Hunsford and Lady Catherine determined announcing our engagement was the best way to quell it. I suspect that Mr. Bennet will not take kindly to me pursuing my interest without first gaining his permission and given that it is Mr. Collins writing, who knows how ridiculous any letter he might compose would be. He seemed offended that I had not sought his permission as Miss Elizabeth was under his protection."

"Oh Fitzwilliam," Edwin leaned over and patted me on the back, "it does sound like a bit of a mess. Do you want me to help you sort it out?"

While the offer was tempting, I was not about to let Edwin assume his familiar role at the expense of my so recently gained independence. "While I welcome your support, I must sort it out myself. I know you are all too willing to enter the breach, that is what you have repeatedly done, but I wish to solve these issues for myself."

Georgiana added, "You must be kind to Miss Bennet, she must be feeling even worse seeing her sister's happiness. Her aunt and I have been endeavoring to keep her occupied so that Miss Elizabeth and Brother may converse, but surely she feels it most acutely as she knows that Brother and Mr. Bingley are close friends."

"I would not mind if you endeavored to talk to the other members of the party to enable Miss Elizabeth and I to talk, but can you try to tamp down your charm?"

Georgiana smiled at him, "Brother is still trying to make a favorable impression on the Gardiners and he does not want you to upstage him, for them to think you would be a better choice for Miss Elizabeth than Brother."

"Not that this would be a possibility," I added, "as I expect you are still seeking your heiress."

Edwin responded, "Not that I have a particular one in mind, though Mother has made it her mission to find her. I like Miss Elizabeth well enough, but mostly as a scintillating partner for discourse. I never have any serious marital designs on ladies such as her; they do not have enough wealth to support the third son of an earl.”

He added, “While I still see the advantages of a match between yourself and Anne, I understand why you wanted to seek and win Miss Elizabeth. I will do my best to support you without overstepping what a cousin ought to do. I have resigned my commission of managing all things for you and it is rather a relief. I hope, though, that you will always think of me as your close family."

Oddly enough I felt calmer having both Georgiana and Edwin at my side as we called on Mrs. Gardiner and the other ladies (it was Mrs. Annesley's day to spend with her sister's family, so it was just the three of us). I made the necessary introductions and settled in next to Miss Elizabeth to have a lovely chat. It felt wonderful once again to merely hold her hand, to see her smile just for me, to meet her eyes if only for a few moments.

"Well, you have certainly brought some entertainment today," she said, inclining her head in the direction of Edwin, who had settled down with Georgiana to talk with the other ladies. Then she whispered, "It seems he must be back in your favor again."

I whispered in reply. "The warning I gave you regarding him was likely overblown. He said a few things that made me think he might wish to act improperly, but now I believe him as he said he was just trying to test the level of affection I held for you. He is not in all ways honorable, but I hope I have his loyalty. He says he would have no part in trying to force a match between Georgiana and one of his brothers, and Georgiana and I are inclined to believe him.”

“I am glad,” Miss Elizabeth told me.

I then shared with her about our plan to test Edwin’s loyalty, finally explaining, “I think if this reaches the Earl's ears, it may both provide us more time to receive your father's consent and wed without the Earl's interference, and if the Earl should attempt to use others to warn Bingley off your sister, it can do no harm as that is already the state in which things were left."

Miss Elizabeth squeezed my hand three times which lessened the sting from her next words. "I wish you had consulted me before enacting such a plan. I do not like to put my sister in the middle of things."


	10. The Open Carriage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edwin and Jane meet. On the way to a museum Edwin tells Darcy about his admiration for Jane.

Miss Elizabeth looked over at her sister, so I did as well. The ladies were all conversing animatedly with Edwin, even Miss Bennet. Miss Elizabeth turned back toward me and noted, "However, I suppose it is unlikely to do harm. My mother would be ready to marry any of us off in any order, but all things being equal she would likely to prefer a marriage for Jane first. I cannot imagine my father has thought of it overmuch."

"How are things with you sister now?"

"I told Jane last night that we are engaged. She already suspected it from the attention that you have shown me. She tried her best to don a happy visage, but oh her eyes were still so sad. Jane told me that she was glad for me, knew that you could not be as Mr. Wickham said you were, but also insisted that there must be some misunderstanding between you and him, sought to excuse it as a joke taken too far. Although she tries to hide it, I am certain our own happiness makes her only more aware of what she is missing. I think she is mostly resigned that her hope of Mr. Bingley must wither away, but still, she longs for someone for herself.”

We were distracted by sudden feminine laughter and the both of us glanced back at Edwin and the ladies. Somehow, he had gotten Miss Bennet to laugh, but then as if remembering that she was supposed to be sad, her momentary mirth faded into solemnity.

I opined, "Perhaps that is a good sign. Mayhap her dark mood is starting to lift."

"It is kind of him to try to lift her spirits; the Colonel always could talk very pleasantly and find pleasure in any society, was able to entertain with talk that might be mundane from someone else."

I did not like her thinking on him in such a way and I told her so.

"Oh Mr. Darcy, I mean no slight on yourself, only that Colonel Fitwilliam is much easier in new company and with such a conversational partner perhaps my sister's mood may remain improved. I shall have to warn Jane not to have any notion that he might take a serious interest in her, for he himself told me while we were in Kent he must marry well. But given her continued focus on Mr. Bingley now that all hope is gone, I doubt she would become confused."

"Yes," I said, "I think my cousin still means to find an heiress with his mother's help. Even this morning, he told me that on other ladies he never has any serious design." I observed how now Edwin seemed to be speaking mostly to Miss Bennet as Miss Lucas was showing my sister her sketch book and Mrs. Gardiner was talking with a servant.

"Still, a slight flirtation might do her some good." Miss Elizabeth commented. "I was flattered when I thought the Colonel had some attraction to me. However, his insulting words about you quickly cured me of it."

I asked, “Do you suppose when it is time for you to depart from London that I might have the pleasure of escorting your party to Hertfordshire in my carriage? Naturally, I would ride outside again.”

“I am not sure that would be wise,” Miss Elizabeth replied. “Not because I would not wish for your company, or the opportunity to travel in your fine carriage again rather than by post, but because it might be better if I return first and have some time to soften my father to you before you arrive.”

I wanted to protest against such a plan and as I was mustering my rebuttal, she added, “Too, Uncle Gardiner said it was most headstrong of me to write to both him and my father before we left Kent to simply inform them of the change in travel plans and act as if it were all about accompanying Miss Darcy rather than on your invitation, and fail to ask their permission and not inform them of your interest in me.”

“But all was most proper,” I insisted perhaps a bit too loudly, for Miss Elizabeth quickly glanced around before looking back at me.

“Certainly, naturally. None would impugn your honor, but still to act as I did by accepting based on my own judgment . . . it was unseemly. Unlike a man, I cannot travel as I see fit and must defer to the male relatives into whose care I am entrusted.”

“But your cousin, Mr. Collins . . .”

“Was not truly asked.”

We were both distracted by the sudden laughter erupting from my cousin and Miss Bennet. In looking over at them I saw nothing to suggest that Edwin was being anything other than his usual charming self. But then I noted that, perhaps, he was more focused on Miss Bennet than he ought to be.

Then I began to ponder, could it be that he might seek to further the Earl's interest in keeping me from marrying any but Anne by trying to make Miss Bennet lose all interest in Mr. Bingley, to prevent me from wedding Miss Elizabeth (although of course, Miss Bennet in truth did not need to marry first)? It would be a cruel trick if Edwin sought to engage Miss Bennet’s interest in himself and then planned to act to crush her once more. If that were to be his game, would he not be disappointed to learn that it was all for naught?

I did not want Miss Bennet hurt. Now I wondered if I had tampered overly much in her life by the simple lie Georgiana had suggested.

But as I watched it seemed that something was happening between the two of them, like a sudden affinity had been recognized. Was it possible Edwin saw something special in Miss Bennet from her own merits?

Within a few minutes, my head began hurting from trying to puzzle out what Edwin might be doing in paying Miss Bennet such decided attention, when earlier that day he had once again reaffirmed that he must seek an heiress as his bride. I suggested to the room at large “Should we not soon depart for our outing?”

All seemed favorable, so within minutes we were preparing to leave for the British Museum, which was contained in the Montague House. Soon enough, it was just a matter of arranging who would travel with whom.

Georgiana, Edwin and I had arrived together in an open carriage; while I traveled by horseback almost exclusively, I had compromised this much when Georgiana had suggested, “If we do take the open carriage, perhaps Miss Elizabeth can sit with me, with you and Edwin opposite.” Was not some discomfort necessary to have more time with my bride to be? However, alas, instead Georgiana ended up traveling with the other ladies.

Sitting in the open carriage with just Edwin while waiting for the ladies’ carriage to go first felt decidedly odd. However, given this time with just him, I resolved to inquire as to his actions toward Miss Bennet. Therefore, once the ladies’ carriage was away, I did not signal the driver to proceed for nearly two minutes.

Edwin drummed his fingers during the delay but remained silent. During this time, I tried to muster my thoughts about what I needed to say.

However, once the carriage was traveling down the road and before I had spoken a single word, Edwin became loquacious. After a few comments praising the hospitality of Mrs. Gardiner, he began speaking of Miss Bennet.

It was well that my coachman Davis is rather deaf, for Edwin’s voice grew louder as he spoke and I could not have been certain it was entirely masked by the noise on the road, the sounds of hooves and wheels, and the din of the town. "I know not how Bingley could have rejected Miss Bennet. She is everything a woman ought to be. While she is perhaps a little sad over being crossed in love, her inner goodness and cheerfulness shines through. Her sweet disposition knows no guile and she seems completely unaware of her great beauty. She is Eve embodied before the fall. What man would not want such a woman on his arm, with that warm smile, that golden hair and such lovely blue eyes!”

I had never heard Edwin praise any woman so much before, but he was not done. “Why most woman in town of gentle breeding who are that lovely would use such assets to quickly arrange an advantageous marriage, while Miss Bennet is currently endeavoring to do nothing but be good company to those around her, be a helpful guest and a devoted niece, friend, sister and cousin. It is clear she dotes on her young cousins and would be an excellent mother."

"Can this be so?" I cried out in astonishment. "Can you really, so quickly and with no apparent effort, now be an admirer of Miss Bennet?"

Edwin colored, which astonished me further, I do not think I had ever seen him blush before. "That has not been my intention. I know my parents would never approve of such a match, for them marriage is a practical financial arrangement. To me, that always made good sense, but then, I had never met anyone like Miss Bennet before. Tell me, surely you must know from Miss Elizabeth, do you think her heart could be touched by another or is she completely fixed on Mr. Bingley?"

While earlier I had wondered if Edwin could be playing some kind of game with her, now I believed him to be genuine. However, both times I was disturbed.

"Miss Elizabeth is of the opinion that her sister loves Bingley. I believe Miss Bennet has felt this way for nigh on six months." I told him.

"Ah then she must have great constancy of feeling." Edwin sighed and looked into the distance ahead of us. "I cannot help but admire such devotion, though not that apparently it is turned toward an unworthy object if Mr. Bingley does not return her regard."

"He admired her before, and it is my hope that he will admire her again. They would make a fine match. And would you be a more worthy object with the actions you have taken?" I was quick to point out "Whether or not they can resolve their differences, Bingley does not have a paid woman in his life, would not dishonor his wedding vows both before and after they are spoken."

I saw the moment Edwin absorbed what I said, for he gritted his teeth and then drew back his lips for a moment before his face resumed a more customary expression. "Just because Mr. Bingley has no 'paid lady' that does not mean he has never paid for a woman's favors and would not again.”

I nodded in acknowledgment. While I was almost certain Bingley had no mistress, as for other more temporary pleasures, I had no knowledge one way or the other about what Bingley may or may not have done.

As I considered the matter, my eyes swept over the shops adjoining us and the people on the street begging or plying their trades. We passed a shoe black and then a costermonger selling what might have been eggs or some undersized fruit to a woman who had no shoes and who, if not a beggar, was not far removed from it.

I offered another argument, “Still, a man’s loyalties are much divided if he provides for a mistress. Additionally, while one of means may not miss the sum for her upkeep, for another who lives upon more modest funds in providing for her steals from his family. The cost of supporting his left-handed wife, makes his family live lower than they ought, deprives the daughters of an adequate dowry, takes bread from his children’s hands. If you marry without a care to money, you certainly cannot afford both.”

As I spoke these words, my eyes again swept over the shops and people near us. It was so much easier to see all the poverty in London when in an open carriage than when riding and concentrating on directing my mount. It was one of the things I disliked most about the city. Certainly, there was poverty everywhere, but not to such a degree and it was certainly less apparent in the country.

Edwin gave a jerky nod and then told me, “I have made many mistakes, it is true, but perhaps they can in part be unraveled, resolved in a way that I have done no great harm. There is much a man ought to do to be worthy of a woman like Miss Bennet."

With a jerk (which startled me), our carriage came to a halt. There was apparently some delay ahead. In consequence, I made sure to speak quietly for it would certainly be easier for anyone to overhear us without the sounds of the road. I could hear anger in my voice as I questioned, "Are not all women worthy of our respect? Are not all women someone's dear sister or daughter? Would you have someone else treat Georgiana as you treat Miss Vaughn? At least George for all his foulness was offering Georgiana his name."

I noticed a beggar girl with a younger boy beside her. She was perhaps seven or eight-years-old. Her hair was knotted; her dress was overly large, frayed and ripped at the neckline. Her feet were black with dirt.

The boy might have been eleven years of age and was in a similar ragged condition. He was standing and swaying as he brought his left hand, the fingers spread, close to and away from his face, the movement caused by his elbow.

The girl must have noticed my notice, for she started towards our stopped carriage. As she made her way towards us, she shouted, “Please sirs, rich you are, some coins. My brother’s simple and our mum is dead.”

“You should not have looked,” Edwin told me. “They all lie.”

Even though she was closer than the boy now, my eyes stayed mostly on the boy. I watched how he brought his hand close to his face, again and again. She noted, “My brother is dumb, makes no words, only howls. We had no bread today.”

The carriage began moving again and the girl ran after us, still pleading. I brought forth my purse and tossed a handful of coins in her direction. She scrambled after them in the dust and retrieved perhaps two before I also saw a man I had not noted before, shove her aside to get to the rest.

“Despicable” said Edwin. He must have noted what happened as well. “If I do not miss the mark, he may be their drunkard father, using them to get money so he may get soused.”

I was not so sure. Perhaps he was simply a fellow beggar, taking advantage of the situation. I wondered if the disreputable man would also take the coins the girl had already picked up. She was so small that if he wanted to there would be nothing she could do.

Already there was naught I could do, for our carriage was moving along now at a good clip. And even if I could stop and intervene, I would be swarmed by beggars and anything I gave then might only later line the pockets of the man who had stolen from the girl.

I thought about her brother, also. He had ignored her begging, had focused on his hand, doing the same thing over and over. I thought he might be like me.

I turned back toward Edwin, tried to pick up the thread of our conversation. “Is not Miss Vaughn worthy of the same respect as Georgiana?”

Edwin responded, "You must think yourself above us ordinary mortals that you have not succumbed to temptations of the flesh, as most all men have. Do you wish me to admit I am a cad, that I am as bad as my father? At least I have been devoted to one rather than spreading my affection around as he does, whether it is welcomed or not. Do you wish me to say that I do not deserve love?"

I made no reply, although I wondered whose love he spoke of. Was he saying he deserved Miss Vaughn’s love, or that of Miss Elizabeth’s sister?

We traveled the rest of the way to the Montagu House in silence. Rather than thinking on my conversation with Edwin, my mind kept returning to the images of the beggar boy with his hand before his face and of his sister grimacing as she was being shoved aside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you like this chapter title? Other titles I considered were "Admiring Miss Bennet" and "Edwin's admiration." Now that you've read this chapter, do you have another suggestion that would be a better fit? I've been trying to keep all the titles at about the same length, two to four words.
> 
> I'm also feeling like it is about time for an interlude from another character's POV as I did in VMC I, but the ones that I have written previously would make more sense later in the story. Who would you like to hear from now and about what?


	11. Frogs and Butterflies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During a trip to a museum, Darcy and Elizabeth exchange stories about their childhood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two fanfiction users were kind enough to message me about the theft of VMC I on Amazon under the title The Candlelight Engagement: A Pride and Prejudice Variation. I have reported the copyright infringement to Amazon and posted a "chapter" under VMC I informing readers of the theft and asking that they leave negative reviews indicating it was stolen. I have been amazed at the outpouring of support. As a thank you, I am posting a chapter of this sequel early.

**Chapter 10: Frogs and Butterflies**

When Edwin and I arrived, I hurried to escort the ladies from the carriage and then paid for our admission. Once through the front doors, we seemed to break into groups most naturally. Miss Elizabeth and I were in the lead (I enjoyed that she took my arm), followed by Mrs. Gardiner with Edwin and Miss Bennet, with Georgiana and Miss Lucas bringing up the rear.

Our whole group stayed within about ten feet of each other at first. There was no opportunity for intimate talk, but I enjoyed seeing Miss Elizabeth's reactions in viewing the fine botanical and zoological paintings.

She seemed especially struck by a painting of vipers and lizards. Besides two complete depictions of each, there was also a wide gaping mouth of a viper ready to strike with its fangs at the ready. She shivered slightly and stated, "I have never seen its like and I am glad. Such a sight would put me off my walks entirely."

"They are certainly a danger. I have heard that there is a snake in the Americas that rattles before it strikes. It may frighten horses. Imagine being the unfortunate horseman whose horse rears and bucks him off among such snakes."

Miss Elizabeth gripped my arm tighter and I wondered, was it imagined fright that caused it, or was fright her excuse to show more intimacy than was strictly proper? I wanted to protect her from anything that would do her harm; she was so small and so precious, though capable and vigorous.

We looked upon an oil painting of a frog and this seemed to spark a memory as she told me, "As a child I brought frogs I caught to my father and he praised me as he might have praised a son. However, my mother was not nearly so kind when one I was bringing up to Papa got loose at Longbourn. You see, Mary had asked to see what I had and then when she saw the frog to hold it. I placed it in her hand, bid her to hold it gently but firmly, but her grasp was too loose and it hopped to the floor quite near my mother (who had been paying no mind to what we were doing, occupied as she was in instructing Jane on her sampler).

"In silence, and it seemed instantaneous to me, and I still do not know how she did it, Mamma lept atop the buffet table, as easily and nimbly as a cat. From this elevated perch, when all danger of encountering the creature was past, she screamed and howled as if having a fit of apoplexy. You would have thought it was a tarantula we saw a few paintings back, rather than a small pool frog, which likely had only lately lost its tadpole tail as it was no bigger than my thumb."

I enjoyed the picture Miss Elizabeth painted with her words. Then she recounted, "Because Mama was screeching, Mary began screaming, too, even though she had not been frightened before, and the little ones started up as well. In all the excitement the frog was lost."

I imagined a young Miss Elizabeth, her curly hair in two long braids, on her hands and knees calmly searching for the frog while her mother carried on atop the buffet table and pulled the other screaming girls up beside her. I imagined the boy I once was helping her look for the frog. However, when I reflected further, I saw that this could not be; given the differences in our ages when Miss Elizabeth was yet a girl collecting frogs, I was likely already a man.

"However, that is not the end of the story. For years afterwards, Papa teased Mama by claiming to spy it many a time. He would casually drop into conversation, 'Today I saw Lizzy's frog. It is now the size of a mouse.' Then while my mother gave a look of horror and began glancing about as if she, too, would now spy the amphibian, he would begin talking of some other thing. Two months or half a year might pass before he would mention it again. The next time, its description would always be larger than before. Sometimes my mother would say nothing, other times she would question him with incredulity, ask him, 'Are you certain Mr. Bennet? No frog could truly be that size.'

"The first time Papa answered, 'That is because no other frog has Lizzy feeding it on mutton.' You see, I am not overly fond of mutton. Then my mom began to berate me for feeding the frog. Papa looked over at me, amusement in his eyes, daring me to contradict him, so of course I did not, said nothing but did not lie. While it has been years since Papa mentioned the frog to Mama, it may well be that he is not done with the joke yet. Perhaps when I return from London, the frog will appear again, this time the size of a hare."

Taking note of something she said earlier, I resolved, "I promise to never serve mutton to you."

"That is very kind, but I am less adverse to it now, although it is not a favorite. However, in fact the frog's fate was not so lucky as to perpetually live in our house. A servant found it some months after it escaped, dead and flat under the sideboard. She was a more squeamish sort, so she requested that I assist her in removing it. She said if I helped her, she would not tell my mother I was still bringing frogs into Longbourn."

"Were you still bringing frogs into Longbourn? Did you help her?"

"Yes, naturally I was still bringing frogs to Longbourn, but my father had suggested that rather than simply grasping one in my hand, it was far better to secure it in a jar (he had his man make holes for the lid) and bring it straight to him in his study, so I do not think another one could have gotten loose. I made sure to always place the jar inside a bag I had sewn from scraps of muslin, so my mother did not know what I had."

"Very sensible."

"But as I did not want my mother to throw another fit, of course I helped our housemaid. However, now that I am telling you the story, it seems likely that if she had told on me, she would have been in trouble too, for it showed her to be most deficient in housekeeping based on the state of that frog lying in that location for what had to be many months."

We proceeded forward to view the physical specimens. I think Miss Elizabeth may have liked the shells and butterflies the best, for her eyes lingered on them the longest, especially a particularly fine example of a swallowtail, a papilio machaon, so named for the Greek mythological figure of Machaon, son of Asclepius. While many might describe it as black and white, the white color was more the color of cream and, easily seen with its wings pinned open, were the blue border sections of scales along its hind wings and two red, eye-like dots, the ocelli.

As she stared at it, Miss Elizabeth surprised me by commenting, "While it is certainly pleasant to study butterflies more closely than I ever see them on my walks, I cannot but regret a little that their short lives were made even shorter by them being plucked from life to be preserved for our enjoyment."

I hesitated momentarily before telling Miss Elizabeth "As a lad, having visited the British Museum, I became obsessed with butterflies and, thus resolved I would start my own collection. Lepidoptera consumed my thoughts for several years and, naturally, although it was not easy the first time, I became an expert at wielding a killing jar."

For a moment I remembered Mr. Stowbaugh following me, carrying the killing jar with the ether cloth inside used to kill the butterflies I captured in my net. The ether had a distinctive, pleasant odor.

"Do you know where your collection is now?" She asked.

"The cabinets with all their contents remain at Pemberley still. However, it has been many years since I have looked at them. My butterflies may have deteriorated, I know not."

"It is cheerful to imagine you running about the land, butterfly net in hand," Miss Elizabeth opined. "Did you do such while in your skeleton suit?"

"I was a bit older than that," I replied. "Of course, because of how I am, part of my delight was memorizing all of their scientific names and repeating them and any other information about them that I had learned from my books to all who would listen, which was mostly my mother and tutor."

"Such a recitation would likely be more fascinating than when my younger sisters can talk of naught but ribbons, lace and officers."

"Perhaps not," I offered, "if you heard the same description multiple times. The conversations of my younger years would not be scintillating for most."

"Have you retained all this knowledge of butterflies now that your interests lie elsewhere?" Miss Elizabeth inquired. Her focus was now on me rather than on the specimens.

I considered, looking more away from her than at her as I answered, "Much of it. The names and colors of butterflies still give rise to comparisons with other things I see. The fabric of a man's waistcoat may be the brown of a pararge aegeria, you may know it as a speckled wood; the auburn color of lady's hair may be the same hue as a polygonia c-album, a comma, found in the south, although Miss Bingley's shade of hair is closer to that of a . . ." here I scanned the cabinet and spotted, pointing to it, ". . . pyronia tithonus, a gatekeeper."

I further recalled, "Lady Catherine has some curtains in her music room whose pattern reminds me of a marbled white, which used to be called the half-mourner for its wing color which alternates between shades that are roughly black and white. When I first saw your sister's eyes in the sunlight streaming in the windows when your party visited my house, I thought that the blue of her eyes was like to that of the azure (or wood) blue butterfly." I pointed out the last butterfly I had named, whose wings shimmered even in the somewhat dim light.

I might have continued on in a similar vein if Miss Elizabeth had not stopped me by replying, while looking away from me, her hand suddenly removed from my arm, "Yes, Jane has lovely eyes; that is what I have heard my whole life."

The tone of her voice seemed wrong somehow and grew more altered still as she added, "Everyone always remarks on the shade, while mine are the color of mud."

I hastened to explain, dropping my voice lower, "My darling, your eyes are every bit as lovely as hers if not lovelier, although I have struggled to decide just what they are like to, for just calling them brown will not do. Their shade is close to the darker tone of a thecla betulae . . . ah, here it is, a brown hairstreak." I glanced at her eyes for comparison, "although this particular specimen is not as like to it as some, but in varying light your eyes can resemble coffee, chocolate, gingerbread, hickory wood, so many things that give delight." As I spoke, my eyes darted now and again back to look at hers and at her dear face, which seemed softened and more relaxed somehow, the longer I struggled to describe her eyes.

I concluded, "Dearest, I could struggle for a lifetime to find the proper word for their lovely shade. Perhaps they are simply Miss Elizabeth brown, unique."

Then I added in an even quieter tone, for I preferred to not be overheard, "Did you know that when I first spotted your ribbon dangling from a rosebush in Netherfield's park, not knowing what it was, the color of it reminded me of a colias croceus?"

I strode back to a previous case, where my eyes had lingered for a time. Miss Elizabeth followed me. Edwin and the rest then proceeded past us to study the case we had been last gazing upon. I could hear them talking but my focus was such that it seemed just sounds and not words.

I pointed out the colias croceus to her with the index finger of my left hand, for my right hand was already reaching into my pocket. "Is it not like to your ribbon?"

"I suppose it is," she replied while gazing upon it.

I instructed, "It is popularly known as a clouded yellow butterfly (or alternatively saffron or clouded orange)."

While I spoke, I fingered her the ribbon for a moment to reassure myself that it was still there, let my fingers linger for a few moments in stroking along its silky-smoothness, a sensation that now meant "yellow" to me. While I was tempted to pull her ribbon out to compare it to the butterfly, I sensed that I should not flaunt that I had Miss Elizabeth's token before her aunt, so instead I regretfully removed my now empty hand.

"When I found it, your ribbon connected you to me."

"You have it with you?" Miss Elizabeth asked, her eyes having followed the movement of my hand.

I nodded. "I have it with me always."

Her face grew soft with some emotion I could not categorize. Miss Elizabeth gave me a nod of acknowledgement and said, "I did not know." Then she said nothing further for a few moments.

When she spoke again, Miss Elizabeth commented, "You must have a prodigious memory to absorb so much knowledge.

I considered, "While my memory may be better than most, I do not think it out of the ordinary. It is simply a matter of my mind dwelling on certain facts until they are committed to memory. While my choices of what to learn may be different and seem impressive to someone who knows little of the topic, it is not so different from the way a man may be impressed that ladies have so many different words for varied shades of blue and green, when he only knows blue and green."

Elizabeth asked me, "Why do you think you liked collecting butterflies so?"

I reflected. I did not think I had been asked that question before, or if I had been asked when yet a lad. Then, I would have had no answer but that I liked having them because I did. Now, perhaps, I had a better answer.

"I think it was because I could perfectly contain and organize them. The butterflies when captured and killed stayed nicely on their pins, were constant and unchanging. People were so much more confusing to me then, compared to the butterflies. It was much easier to understand their habits, than those of my fellow man."

"Ah, I see." Miss Elizabeth's hand tightened reassuringly on my arm once more. "When and why did you lose interest?"

"My interest had already waned when I went away to school as I was ready for more complicated things, however it is nice now to remember that hobby as it reminds me of my mother."

"How so?" asked she.

"Well, my mother listened attentively when I talked about butterflies, purchased for me many expensive books and looked at them with me. While I admit to annoyance that she could not seem to remember their Latinate names, she admired the colored plates and the butterflies I captured, said they were more beautiful than the most expensive jewelry."

I reflected further on the memory and then added, "Looking back on such interactions, I do not know if Mother genuinely liked _them_ (although I suspect she did to a certain extent), but I know she genuinely liked _me_ and wanted to enter into my world." I felt a warm feeling inside in having shared something so personal with Miss Elizabeth.

Miss Elizabeth smiled so sweetly at me then. "Someday I would like to see your collection and hear more about your memories of your mother."

If I had not loved her yet, surely such a declaration would have stolen my heart.

Miss Elizabeth grasped my arm and we continued on in a companionable silence for a while. I could not help but hear the conversation between Edwin and Miss Elizabeth's sister who were now ahead of us, their words clear to me now that my focus was removed from the butterflies. I think Miss Elizabeth remained silent so as to follow what they were speaking of, though she made no attempt to join in.

I heard Miss Bennet exclaim, "Oh, look at these nests. I never knew they were so intricate in design."

Edwin replied, "Do you know that many of the songbirds mate for life and raise their chicks together? The male may even bring food to his mate as she sits upon the eggs, and later brings food to the chicks when they hatch and feeds them. He is loyal and true for he loves his mate and their young ones."

Somehow, although his words were proper, I felt that Edwin was using this discussion to woo Miss Bennet. Perhaps Miss Elizabeth felt the same, for she gave me a look, released my arm and walked closer to her sister, saying "Jane, I have missed you these past months; we must look at some of the portraits together."


	12. Interlude 1, Part 1: Lady Anne: To Die is Gain?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lady Anne reflects on her impending death and recalls parenting Darcy when he was a young child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This interlude is from Lady Anne’s point of view. As was established in VMC I, Chapter 40: A Time for Reflection, she died of what was likely uterine or ovarian cancer after her husband died. This interlude details some of Lady Anne’s thoughts while she was on her death bed as well as past memories, including the basis for the prologue in VMC I. The Bible verses referenced are Philippians 1:21-23 and Luke 20:34-36. As I was revising what I had into this interlude, it got rather long, which is why it is split into two parts, the second of which you will get a few chapters further along. If you are reading as I post, watch for another chapter to be posted tomorrow.

Today while Mrs. Reynolds was sitting with me, taking her turn so that Georgiana and Fitzwilliam might have some respite, she noticed the family Bible sitting by my bedside. She picked it up and asked, “Lady Anne, do you wish me to read the Good Book to you?”

I had been reading the Bible in preparation for meeting our Lord, but now when it seemed that time was growing short, I could not bear to rest the book against my turgid middle which was still swelling with the growth that was causing me to die. And turning the pages and focusing my eyes upon the page had become difficult, too.

I croaked out a “Yes,” and then added, “Philippians 1.” I had read before the Apostle Paul’s words about living for Christ and dying being gain and wished to think upon them again and find some comfort for the transition that was to come. For there is no going back. The separation is approaching, and nothing can be done to halt it. I try to find peace where I can.

After Mrs. Reynolds finished reading it, she asked me if I wished her to continue onto the next chapter, but I declined, saying “I will rest now.” I closed my eyes, but I did not sleep. Instead, I found that my mind began to contemplate other mysteries, foremost among them, love.

I love my children; I loved them before they were conceived, and I will love them after I am dead. Love cannot be bound by the length of time that we reside here in our fleshly bodies. I know that this is true because as my body fails me and constantly pains me, my love remains as strong as ever, perhaps even strengthens when there is less to distract from it.

My love for George is stronger now than when his soul left him and only his breathless broken body remained behind. When the stabbing pain of his death faded to an ever-present ache, all the little irritants of our life together were burned away it. It all was transformed to further love by some alchemy that I cannot explain and some of what bothered me before became cherished details of how he was not perfect but was mine because I knew all these things.

George used to come to my bed and brush his ice-cold feet against mine, wrap his cold hands around me. As a new bride, I said nothing about this, did my best not to startle when he did it. When I gained a little courage, I complained about how he was chilling me, knitted him stockings to wear to bed, bid him to rub his hands together to warm them before touching me. But still, when he was in a mercurial mood, he would forgo such preparations exclaiming, “Ah, how nice and warm you are.”

I did not find it very endearing at the time. But now, what I would not give to feel his cold feet and hands again!

I still feel the love George had for me. It surrounds me and comforts me, blankets me in warmth. How much greater would this love be if I were nearer to its source?

As I prepare to leave this mortal coil, I should try to think about what I will gain. I know I should be thinking first and foremost of returning to the Creator our Lord, but perhaps because I am a silly mortal creature, I think about being with George. Indirectly this is thinking on God for surely George is with Christ and surely a loving Father wishes to reunite us. Yet I have read the passage in Matthew about how one is no longer married in heaven.

I only wish to stay here in this place of pain because my children still need me. Fitzwilliam because this world does not understand him and Georgiana because of her youth. However, I take comfort that when I am gone, they will still have each other to rely upon and the whole staff of Pemberley.

While I am sure that my love will survive my death as it permeates my soul, I do not know if when it wings away that my thoughts will still go with it, and as there is nothing else to do, I shall think as long as I can. At least there is a legacy for my children in my journals. I doubt they will be able to look at them for a long time, but they will be there when they are ready and need a bit of their mother with them.

I carefully documented everything about Fitzwilliam in my journal from his earliest moments in the womb. I wrote down when I first suspected myself to be with child (I wrote down the same thing the first time, too, though I abandoned that journal when I miscarried). I wrote down when the midwife confirmed my condition. I wrote down telling George (I remember his ecstasy mixed with trepidation given our prior experience). I wrote down how the slight swell of my belly felt, when it could be contained in the palm of my hand. I wrote down the first little quiver that I could definitively say was not caused by digestion and then how the stronger movements felt (which finally reassured me he would in fact be born, unlike that previous child who had only begun to swell my belly and died months before he should have been born).

I wrote down when the first stretch marks appeared (on my right side, near my hip). I wrote down when I first realized that turning sideways no longer helped me fit through a tight space. I wrote down when I had to remove my wedding ring before the swelling sunk it into my flesh. I wrote down when my belly stuck out enough that I could rest my journal comfortably a top it as I sat.

I wrote down how those first practice pains felt and my embarrassment when the midwife arrived and explained to me that if this was the beginning of my travailing that I would know it as these were nothing like the true pains that would follow. I recounted when the practice pains changed to what I thought might be real pains. I wrote between them as I could do naught but give into them while they were occurring, and soon they were too close together for me to be able to write anything down at all. Then there was a gap of a few days in my journal before I wrote again.

I wrote about the laboring and finally the joy of finally being able to do something: the need, desire, and fulfillment of pushing as my body wanted to do as a deep groan of effort escaped me. I wrote of being stretched and burning, touching the top of his head with my fingers when only the top of his head peeped out, pushing once or twice more and feeling him slither out in a gush and then the absence of sensation, only a little burning pain remaining.

I wrote about the wonder of seeing him that first time for just a moment, when the midwife held him up, misshapen from the birth, slimy, whitish and silent, blinking solemnly, as she announced, "Tis the Darcy heir, you've done well."

I wrote about seeing him again after the midwife rubbed him dry, wailing now, while I waited for her to place him in my arms. I wrote about a love so strong that I cried after I counted each finger and toe, saw his well-formed ears, eyes, nose and toothless mouth, voicing through my tears, "He is perfect."

I wrote about the relief and happiness I saw upon my George's face when he first beheld his son and called him “Fitzwilliam.” I wrote all these things with my left arm curled around my sleeping son, whose mouth was still fastened to my left breast (as I could not bear to have another woman perform this service for me and take him away from me if only for a few minutes, when those few minutes would be repeated throughout the day).

I kept writing as weeks turned into months and then years. I tried to write down each significant event that occurred and many insignificant ones, too.

Fitzwilliam was a large baby when first born, so large in fact that the midwife, after her first pronouncement said "He looks to be a month old already." His limbs were long and lean. He was born with a full head of dark hair. I remember that within a few days of being born he did not like to be swaddled, or at least for his arms to be confined. He nursed frequently and vigorously, and though he never got very rounded as some babies do, Fitz grew and he grew and he grew. There was never any question that he looked almost exactly like his father and even in his baby face I saw familiar expressions cross them.

Fitzwilliam almost always smiled when he awoke and saw me for the first time each morning and I am certain my face also bore an enormous grin. Before he could crawl, he loved to be held in a standing position, he loved it when I moved my fan back and forth in front of his face and above all he loved it when I sang to him. He was never more content then when being held, but besides when nursing loved to be held in an upright manner, facing outward to see the world around him.

At first, Fitz did almost everything either early or when he was supposed to do it. He smiled early, within days of his birth. He rolled over when he was supposed to. He sat up when he was supposed to. He was a bit late in crawling even when we transitioned him into a light frock that left his knees bare, but I learned from Nurse Storey that the largest of babies crawl later.

Fitzwilliam started walking right around his first birthday. Prior to that he had pulled himself up on the bookcase in the nursery and was able to walk while using it for balance, gripping it with both hands. I arranged to have the bookcase affixed to the wall then.

Beginning when he was crawling, we could not keep books on the low bookcase shelves for long as Fitzwilliam liked nothing better than to take all the books down from the shelves and when the nursery maid replaced them would simply do it again and again. Finally, I had them boxed up (save for whichever we were reading to him that day which I kept on the highest shelf, well above his reach), and placed in the bottom of the wardrobe which could be locked with a key. How Fitz wailed when he noted that the shelves were empty!

Fitzwilliam began walking when George and I were having a picnic outside of Pemberley. We sat on chairs the staff had brought out, had a banquet on a table, while Fitzwilliam was on a large blanket beside us, under the care of Nurse Storey.

Fitzwilliam ate some bites of food Nurse Storey offered him and then chewed on toasted strips of bread, making rather a mess. However, he was finished eating far sooner than us and commenced to crawl. George noted Fitzwilliam’s movement and mentioned, “I hope that Nurse Storey is quick on her feet for Fitzwilliam has now all of the outdoors to explore.”

However, this did not become a problem as he had anticipated, for Fitz kept crawling happily until he reached the edge of the blanket and then whined when he touched the grass with his hands. Then he sat, pivoted and begin crawling again in another direction. He was content until he reached the grass again. This time his whining changed to wailing as he began reaching out toward a tree beyond him that he could not reach.

"He wants to walk!" George announced to me.

Fitzwilliam could already walk when Nurse Storey and I each held him by a hand to help him balance. His legs were strong and moved forward correctly. However, if either of us removed our hands he would either stop all forward motion, stand and whine, or try to continue on and collapse to the ground within a step or two. We had shown George his son’s progress and I knew when he proposed a picnic and that we ought to bring Fitzwilliam as well, that he wished to take his turn teaching his son to walk.

We arose from our chairs and the two of us each held one of Fitz’s hands. Fitzwilliam took a few steps with us and then George told me, “Let go.” Fitz looked at me when I pulled away from him, reached out his hand toward me and I commenced to back away a little. I thought my son might collapse then, but then he took a couple more tentative steps with George helping to hold him up. Then George let go. Fitzwilliam stood there, wobbly on his own, a worried looking expression on his face, and then took a step or two by himself before he toppled forward upon the grass and cried.

We tried again and again. Fitzwilliam seemed eager for the activity, but each time he lost his balance and tumbled, and his hands and knees hit the grass, he cried.

"He is frustrated that he cannot yet walk," George told me.

I had a different theory, but I did not share it. It seemed to me that Fitzwilliam did not like the feel of the grass upon his hands and knees, was willing to try his best to walk to avoid touching the grass.

We tried again and again. Whereas past times we had tried to get Fitzwilliam to walk and after a few attempts he resumed crawling, this time he did not crawl, only cried and waited for us to try again. He seemed determined and indeed he did learn to walk by himself that day. As he did so, progressing a few more steps by himself most times, he had the happiest grin upon his face.

It was not long after that when we had to remove much of the furniture from the nursery as Fitzwilliam learned to move it and climb upon it to get quite high in the room. Although he was never left alone, his nursery maid might be busy cleaning up one mess he had made (there were many times that he "played" by throwing toys) and his nurse another one, only to discover Fitzwilliam halfway up the bookcase or perched upon the windowsill.

These things worried me a bit and so I spoke to my husband about it. I told him, “Something must be done. Fitz has been climbing atop the table and today he slid a chair over to climb upon the fender and the other day he climbed halfway up the bookcase. Although it is bolted through the wall, if he had fallen, he could have been hurt.”

George responded, “Our Fitzwilliam is certainly a strong and clever lad, fearless too. But toddling children must be saved from inadvertent harm. I will certainly have everything he could climb upon removed.”

George visited the nursery that day with a pair of footmen and resolved what types of furniture needed to go. In the end, nothing was left but the sofa, a chair, a couple of heavy trunks, and the wardrobe. In the empty room, the wardrobe loomed, but it was safe enough, for when it was locked there was no way for him to climb upon it and it was far too heavy for Fitzwilliam move.

By the time Fitzwilliam was a year and a half old he had been babbling for some time but never seemed to keep a word for more than a day or two. Nurse Storey and I were quite busy saying things to him and trying to name objects for him (ball, block, pillow). We were both determined to get him to keep a word. He did eventually, and more words besides, but he seemed to repeat far more words than he knew the meanings to.

I did not have much experience with babies. The families my family associated with before my marriage were few and my husband did not like the society of many. If there were any babies among those we knew, they were confined to the nursery when guests were in their home, save for perhaps making a brief appearance with a nurse to be admired before being whisked away again.

My brother married shortly after me, but the distance and the strain on our relationship for how George and I had forced our marriage to come to pass over his other designs to match me with a peer, was such that I had not yet seen him since my wedding day. I had neither met his wife nor his children, three boys born before my Fitzwilliam and one born shortly thereafter.

Although we had visited the de Bourghs and spent the summer together when Fitzwilliam was almost one year of age and Catherine's daughter, my namesake Anne, was a few months old, I did not have a sense from that of how my child should be now. Anne had not yet begun to crawl. I remember she usually had a solemn look on her face as she looked at things, seemed to take everything in.

There were certainly families among our tenants that had little ones, but I rarely saw them unless someone was ill and during my confinement and afterwards based on the midwife's advice, which George vigorously enforced, I was told to avoid anyone who was ill. It would not do for me to become ill and then have little Fitzwilliam sicken.

I did see the Wickhams' son in passing now and again, but not too often as I was not fond of his mother. It seemed to me from the slight impression I had from these past encounters that Fitzwilliam was a rather more active child than George, but I knew little else of how they might be different.

I spent rather a lot of time in the nursery in those days. Fitzwilliam was my child and I loved him dearly. While I was not always nursing him or entertaining him, I liked to be on hand.

When I brought my knitting with me, I had to bring a ball of knitting wool just for Fitz as if I did not, he would try to seize the one from my lap. And it had to be of equal quality to mine own as he was not fooled by ordinary wool when I had finer lambswool mixed with angora in my lap. He was like a kitten, unrolling it and getting himself tangled in it. Wool was the first word he truly learned and retained, though he said it as "ool."

I was quick to anticipate Fitzwilliam's needs as they were quite predictable, but as he grew and was slow to pick up more words, Nurse Storey kindly suggested that I wait and then ask, "Want _?" I should wait for him to respond by saying something and then say the name of the thing as I gave it to him, but never let him get overly frustrated. This seemed to help him acquire more words.

As he gradually moved to stringing words together, he began to attach "more" to everything. He especially liked to ask for more wool, drink and biscuit: "More ool. More dink. More bisit." Sometimes he asked for "More Mama" which meant he wanted to nurse or to be held.

I did not ask Nurse Storey if he was like other little ones. By now I feared somewhat the answer. It was something we did not talk about between ourselves. Although I was certainly fond of Nurse Storey, she knew her place and did not strive for such a level of intimacy in our discourse and I did not initiate it.

My husband, on the other hand, had no problem in voicing his concerns to me and such uncomfortable conversations were becoming more frequent as Fitz grew older. I recall an occasion when Fitzwilliam must have been about three and George came to the nursery and tried to play tin soldiers with him. Fitz was not having it, virtually ignored the soldiers my husband was drawing out of the box, save for overturning them now and again, instead played with his wool.

George told me that evening while escorting me to dinner, “While Fitz is certainly a well-formed child, he is just not like other children. Something is off. He should certainly be speaking better by now, and it is odd that a child his age would rather play with your wool than play war.”

I was always quick to defend Fitzwilliam to George, even though at times I wondered, too. I said, “Each child is different. While I am sorry, he did not want to play with you, he is shy with those he does not know well.”

Then I attacked George very deliberately, to turn his thoughts onto his own failings and away from those of our son, saying “You do not see Fitzwilliam often enough for him to know you well.”

This led to a quarrel where George defended how much time he spent with Fitz. He noted, “As the master, I have all of the estate to manage. I cannot hide in the nursery and neglect my duties as you do.”

That night as I lay alone and awake in my bed, I considered the matter further. In many ways Fitzwilliam seemed just like other children I had observed at a distance, but he did not play the same as I recalled playing as a child. He liked to line things up in long rows, to completely unwind a ball of wool and then wind it up again, to walk around and around a round table, dragging a toy upon a string. He was already reading the simplest of stories by then, but I had no idea if he understood the words. He could recite nursery rhymes from memory and sing simple tunes, but he was only recently reliably using a chamber pot.

In noting how much Fitzwilliam liked my wool and other long and thin things, I had begun presenting him with such things now and again, much to his delight. But I was not sure my husband would approve. But should I not seek to give my child things he liked, even if they were not the sorts of things that most children would have wanted?

When Fitzwilliam was four years of age, George accepted an invitation to visit my brother, the Earl of Matlock. When we were children, I simply called him Dudley but now I was not sure how to address him anymore. We were to visit him and his family at their country estate, my childhood home of Matlock, and to meet his now five sons. It was now looking as if Fitzwilliam would be an only child and I believe George wanted our son to become friendly with his cousins.

Fitzwilliam did surprisingly well during the long journey. Sometimes he rode in the carriage with his nurse and sometimes he rode with his father and me. When with us, Fitz played with a new ball of wool I had prepared for him specifically for the journey while I talked to him about meeting his cousins. It was difficult to know if he was paying any mind to what I was telling him. While played with his wool, I knit with mine and George read. Fitz would bring the ball over to me when I needed to untangle it.

When Fitz became tired of the wool, I also set my knitting aside. Then, he sat upon my lap and looked out the windows. I pointed out cows, goats, sheep and horses to him. He also slept for long stretches, rocked to sleep by the carriage.

When we arrived, Lady Matlock and I took my son to the nursery where her three youngest children awaited us. I noticed the three of them were sitting on a rug listening to a story. They arose when we entered.

Fitzwilliam seemed excited, saying "Boys, boys, boys!" He circled around them, looking them over, touched the yellow sleeve of one and examined their shoes.

Lady Matlock presented us to her sons, ignoring Fitzwilliam’s antics. The eldest, a boy with dirty blonde hair who I could already tell would not be a handsome man when he was grown, quite politely said, "Hello Mother. Lady Anne, Cousin Fitzwilliam, I am glad to finally meet you. I am Edwin and these are my little brothers." He then told me their names and each of them in turn politely greeted us, even the youngest who was barely two years of age. I told them I was pleased to meet them, requested they address me as Aunt Anne.

The youngest seemed so much smaller than Fitzwilliam and was still all baby fat, but looked up at us and said, "Ello Mather, ello Auntie, ello Coss Fiss-illum."

I felt embarrassed then. Although Nurse Storey and I had worked with Fitzwilliam about greeting people, he had not even said hello and was even now climbing upon their rocking horse. I felt the need to explain his actions, “My Fitzwilliam has been confined to the carriage for so long, he has quite forgotten his manners. Please excuse him.”

Lady Matlock responded, “That is quite alright.” However, from the expression on her face, I did not think it was quite alright with her.

I found myself apologizing for Fitzwilliam so many, many times that day and for the duration of the trip. Imagining what they saw through their eyes showed me how blind I had been about my own son.

Nurse Storey seemed to understand, and we had a long talk that first day. We were in a guest chamber two doors down from the nursery where Fitzwilliam was taking a nap. I remember asking her, "Why did you not tell me how behind Fitzwilliam is? His youngest cousin can speak far better, and I do not see any of them throwing toys or tumbling books from the shelves."

She looked at me and said, "I thought you knew and that was the reason you were always in the nursery with us, to help him gain the skills he needs."

"I am there," I told her, "because he is my son. I do not understand how he cannot even speak as well as his cousin who is half his age."

"He is different," Nurse Storey told me, "but he is as smart a fellow as they come. I have never seen his like before, but he is who he is. While we can help him reach his potential, we cannot change his fundamental nature."

Then she told me something that I have long held in my heart, that I dust off in my mind when those long-ago written words in my journal where I first wrote, _There is something wrong with my son_ , surface.

Nurse Storey said, "Lady Anne, nothing has changed. Master Darcy is still the same boy you loved yesterday and will love tomorrow. Your perception may have changed, but that is all. He can still have a good life. He just needs a bit more help and love."

I faced that next day with renewed determination. Together Nurse Storey and I worked to give Fitz what he needed. It was the focus of my life and I believe my husband was a bit jealous of my time. However, it was what needed to be done and my duties as a wife and mistress paled compared my responsibilities toward my son, for he needed me more than my husband or the household.


	13. Adam and Eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An "indecent" painting is viewed at the museum and Edwin shares more about his feelings for Miss Bennet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are reading as I post, make sure you read the previous chapter, which is actually an interlude from Darcy’s mom which I posted last night. In this chapter, we are now back to Darcy’s POV. The revision process is going gangbusters and I’ve got several chapters almost ready to go. When I get the whole thing finished, then I will start posting chapters more quickly than once a week.

I was left in a grouping with Mrs. Gardiner and Edwin while the Bennet sisters, arm in arm, strode in front of us into the portrait gallery. Miss Elizabeth's timing in separating herself from me was brilliant though I doubt she knew it.

One of the first portraits for our perusal was an engraving by Durer of Adam and Eve, unclothed but for some strategically placed leaves attached to twigs concealing their nether regions, but not Eve’s breasts. We caught up to the sisters as they gazed upon this depiction.

There Adam stood, all his muscles well defined, exposed in a way a maiden would never find a man until she became a missus and entered the marital state. Eve, whose face was not as lovely as Adam’s, had gentle curves and a rather small bosom; her hand was stretched out to the serpent while also holding a fig, and animals surrounded them.

The engraving did not shock me as I had seen it before, though I had not particularly thought of it when I had suggested this outing. However, standing there with our whole group was a different matter entirely than when I had seen it with my father.

As we gazed, Georgiana and Miss Lucus joined our grouping. Mrs. Gardiner broke our silence, "Come along dears, this painting does not bear looking at overly long."

Suddenly all the women were hurrying forward together, all facing away from us, with Edwin and I in the rear. I wondered; did they blush? Did Miss Elizabeth now contemplate what I might look like unclothed?

While Edwin (who was a little back from me), took a couple of steps forward in the direction the ladies had gone, I stayed where I was, took that moment to let the gap between them and us widen and then stayed Edwin’s forward motion with an outstretched arm and hand. “I would speak with you.”

A family passed us where we stood, still standing before Durer’s masterpiece depicting the fall. The matron took a single glance at the engraving and then at us before instructing, “Children, proceed into the gallery directly.”

Edwin watched them go and then turned back in my direction and commented softly, “She must have thought us libertines.” He shrugged.

I did not understand why Edwin thought that, and he must have understood that, too, for he explained, “She must have seen us standing for some minutes before this Eve and, curious about what had gained our attention, hurried over with her children in search of the fine art that could captivate two men for so long. And then when she espied it, she thought us most horrid beasts, dwelling on thoughts of despoiling mankind’s mother rather than (of course as we were doing) meditating on the tragedy of the fall and man’s fallen nature.”

Edwin smirked. “Naturally, that mother has no way of knowing that my cousin has never, ever desired to see a woman unclothed.” Then he rolled his eyes at me.

“I think I have all the proper desires for a man,” I told him.

“So, what is it you wish to speak to me about? Do you wish to know more about the act? Have you committed the sin of onanism to thoughts of what you shall do with the lovely Miss Elizabeth when finally married?”

I felt my face flame. There were other museum goers about, although none were close to us just then.

“I shall not talk to you about any of that, and certainly not here. No, indeed! I wished to warn you that as Miss Bennet will be my sister, I will protect her from any that might harm her, including the son of an earl."

Edwin placed his hand upon his breast, "I would sooner hurt myself than Miss Bennet. All I wish is the opportunity to become better acquainted with her, to consider what may be possible, to see if her heart could be touched."

"Miss Bennet does not meet _your_ criteria and _her_ heart belongs to another. Her portion is small and the opposition I faced regarding Miss Elizabeth from you and Lady Catherine would be nothing compared to what your parents would bring to bear on you. Bingley is all that is on her mind, you are a mere distraction at best."

"Is your opposition to this all about the practicalities? Perhaps I do not wish to be wise."

I shrugged. "Are you in earnest?"

Edwin nodded. He did not seem to be joking now, but I was still uncertain as to whether he was serious or only pretending to be.

I resolved to speak to Miss Elizabeth about this matter, but said to Edwin only, “I believe it is time we rejoin the ladies.”

We hurried past much fine art to regain our place with them, but ended up only joining my sister, Miss Lucas and Mrs. Gardiner as the Bennet sisters were elsewhere. They did not return to us until we were almost finished touring the museum.

At that time, Mrs. Gardiner began discussing what additional sights the ladies should see in London before their trip back to Hertfordshire. Miss Bennet said, directing her comments in the direction of her sister and friend, “Lizzy and Maria, it is unfortunate that you will have less time in London than anticipated, due to your late arrival from Kent. Perhaps we should delay our return.” Then, I saw Miss Bennet turn her eyes in the direction of my cousin and add, “There is so much more to be seen, and in such pleasant company.”

Edwin asked Miss Bennet when they were to leave. He looked quite horrified when she said "Saturday."

"But it is Thursday now!” Edwin exclaimed. Seeking some reprieve, he asked Mrs. Gardiner, “Can the ladies not extend their visit by a few days?"

Mrs. Gardiner replied, “Certainly my nieces and their friend are most welcome to abide with us longer. Mr. Gardiner and I always enjoy company, although with three guests the accommodations are somewhat snug. However, the decision does not rest with us alone; their fathers would have to approve any alterations of the plans.”

Edwin noted, his comments generally directed toward all three ladies, although his eyes seemed to be focused on Miss Bennet, "You must certainly stay longer if you possibly can.” Then glancing at me he suggested, “If you have not been, Darcy and I must take you all to see Artexerxes at the Theatre Royal with a comedy to follow."

After concluding our museum visit, we returned to the Gardiners for tea but did not immediately sit down to partake. I was frustrated that there was no opportunity to talk to Miss Elizabeth about what was currently on our minds, the burgeoning closeness between her sister and my cousin. I was also frustrated that while we should have been one another's focus that we were both distracted. I wanted time in which we could enjoy each other's company as we had in our walks in Kent.

We both watched Miss Bennet and Edwin as we chatted idly, our conversation lagging. I observed that while Miss Bennet was still as open and engaging as ever and seemed to accept Edwin's attentions with pleasure much she had with Bingley, her countenance was not as serene. She leaned in toward him and was increasingly animated when conversing with him, though occasionally she still seemed at times to remember her melancholy.

I remembered some signs my tutor had taught me to watch for, to determine whether a woman might wish to engage the interest of a man and tallied them up in my head. Beyond the signs I had already noticed, I observed that Miss Bennet looked intently into his eyes, twirled her finger through a strand of hair that had escaped her bonnet and touched his arm for a moment.

Although I had not been taught by my tutor whether men exhibited similar signs, I had noticed Bingley's signs that corresponded with him expressing great admiration of a lady. Edwin's behavior seemed very like. He seemed to prefer speaking to Miss Bennet above all the others. He, too, leaned in toward her and was mildly inattentive to the rest of us, though when roused tried to pay attention.

Mrs. Gardiner tried to involve herself in Edwin’s conversation with Miss Bennet and endeavored to find out more about him. I thought Edwin’s interest very marked and very different than what I had seen from him before.

At one point, I heard Edwin ask Mrs. Gardiner, “May I meet your children?” Mrs. Gardiner made a request of her servant and a few minutes later the two girls, who I had learned were older than their brothers, were brought out to join in the tea. They dutifully curtseyed and did their best to imitate their elders' manners as they ate their biscuits and sipped tea to which copious amounts of sugar and milk were added.

They seemed very reserved to me, but Edwin soon had them talking with him. The elder, a brunette girl who bore some resemblance to Miss Elizabeth and her dark-haired sisters, but whose eyes were not nearly as fine as Miss Elizabeth’s, shyly asked him, “Mr. Colonel, perhaps you might wish to accompany us and Jane on the morrow to sip new milk in St. James Park.”

"Miss Gardiner, I would be delighted," replied he. "Should I bring my own cup?"

Mrs. Gardiner quickly intervened and assured him, “You need not accompany us.” She gave a quick glance at her daughter before adding, “Emma should not have asked.”

Miss Gardiner’s eyes widened at the rebuke.

Edwin gallantly declared, "I am glad that she did. Although it has been many years since I have quaffed new milk, I remember that nothing is better and with such fine company and good weather it will be a delightful outing." He looked right in Miss Bennet's eyes when he mentioned the “fine company” and said the word “delightful.”

Miss Elizabeth was quick to ask, “Mr. Darcy, Miss Darcy, should you like to join us also?”

Although I had no real interest in new milk, seeing this as an opportunity to spend more time in her presence, I, too, consented, while my sister made her excuses, explaining, “I have plans to call tomorrow on some of my dear friends.”

By this time, I felt we had tarried overly long in their house and said, “We must be returning to our home but besides the morning outing, we should like for you all to visit again for dinner tomorrow.” Mrs. Gardiner quickly accepted.

Just before we departed, Edwin asked Miss Bennet, “May I call on you on the morrow, before the outing for fresh milk?” She agreed.

During the carriage ride back to my residence, Edwin was very vocal once again about his admiration for Miss Bennet. It was rather sickening. Georgiana was mildly encouraging but soon grew silent. Edwin seemed content to hear his own voice without much contribution from Georgiana or me.

At the end of a long soliloquy, Edwin declared “I am in love.”

"Enough!" I roared, surprised at how vehement my own voice was. "You may admire her, but no one falls in love in a day." I felt my fists clench; I was determined to protect my would-be sister.

This was enough to make him pause and look my way.

"I agree with Brother," Georgiana added more softly, squeezing my arm reassuringly (she sat on the seat beside me, while Edwin was in the backwards facing seat). "I like Miss Bennet, but neither of us know her. Tell me Edwin, what have you truly learned about her; besides that you admire her appearance and kindness to those around her?"

Georgiana dropped her voice and whispered, though we three were alone, but for the coachman and the other carriages on the street, "I was a fool when I thought myself in love with George. He did everything he could to please me, paid me some attention and spoke sweet words, but though I was familiar with him since perhaps my infancy, I knew him not at all."

I took a deep breath or two, recited in my mind the scientific names of my favorite butterfly specimens (discussing my collection with Miss Elizabeth made me think of this) and then made my fists unclench. I waited a few moments more before I trusted I might speak more calmly. I was half astonished that as of yet Edwin made no reply, so I determined to address him before he spoke again.

"Edwin, I have no objection to you trying to know her better if you obey all proprieties, but you were far, far too forward today. So much so that perhaps everyone but Miss Bennet herself was trying to determine your intentions. And as things stand now, I would feel honor bound to inform her father and uncle of your ongoing improper behavior should you ask to court her or ask for her hand."

Edwin sighed deeply and all the previous animation and good humor in his face vanished. "Let us not talk of such things in front of Georgiana."

Georgiana blushed and then before the color faded from her cheeks whispered, "You men may have your private talk, but I will have my say. I would not want to marry anyone who would violate his marriage vows."

I was astonished she would speak even obliquely of Edwin's mistress, but given our discussion that morning was far less astonished than Edwin. When I turned from her to him, I noted his mouth was still agape, his eyes wide. I took advantage of his distraction to speak once more and turn the conversation before my sister in a more appropriate direction.

"Time is needed for you to know what your heart truly feels. You may think my courtship of Miss Elizabeth to be quite rapid, but I have spent far more time with her than you with Miss Bennet and we both trusted each other with our deepest secrets, laid all the ugliness we possessed before the other and somehow, miraculously, she has accepted me as I am.” I gave myself leave to feel the blessing that was Miss Elizabeth’s acceptance of me.

I explained to Edwin, “You have only shown Miss Bennet your friendliest, most jovial self. I dare say that even if she might admire you, she does not know you. I doubt she is ready to trust you with her heart, nor should she so soon."

Edwin seemed deep in thought the rest of the carriage ride. When we arrived he made his excuses. Though I invited him to stay for dinner he shook his head "no" and departed on his horse.


	14. New Milk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy has a quiet evening with Georgiana and then the next day accompanies the Gardiner party to drink new milk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I have gotten up to the editing of Chapter 20, I thought I might as well give you an additional chapter before Saturday (and might even give you another chapter later in the week before that, so if you haven't followed or whatever that is called on AO3, you might want to). I am working from home at least the rest of this week and my little interactions with you will be about all the personal contact I get with anyone besides my family as two of my boys are quarantined for covid exposure that happened last Thursday. They have no symptoms and are to be tested today, so hopefully in a few days we will get the all-clear.

I was rather relieved to be spending the evening with just Georgiana after three dinners with others since we had arrived in London and all the time spent in the company trying to be myself but to do nothing for which I would be judged. While it would not be a burden to have Miss Elizabeth with me, I hoped she would understand after we wed about all the time I needed alone.

I excused myself from Georgiana and told her I would see her at dinner. Then I retreated to my rooms and attempted to sort out all my confused feelings and what exactly had happened today. There were so many wonderful things to recall about how Miss Elizabeth and I had talked but, yet, there was also the beggar boy and his sister, the conundrum that was Edwin. I lay on my bed and stroked and caressed the little yellow ribbon between my thumb and forefinger, wrapped it around my fingers, twined it around my wrist and clasped it in my hand. I tried to focus on it to the exclusion of all else. Finally, I felt calm.

Dinner was simple as was our preference when we dined alone. As is typical we were seated at a smaller round table in a room adjoining the dining room, served by a single servant as the room was not overly large. But even one servant was one too many to talk about what was foremost on our minds.

Undoubtedly the whole household had learned of my engagement to Miss Elizabeth from Georgiana's maid or my valet, but they had been lectured many times, the women by my housekeeper, Mrs. Grotburn, and the men by my butler, Mr. Smith, about the importance of being discrete, yet who could ever know that would be kept with certainty? The matter with Edwin was not something to be bandied about. So, we discussed the museum, the Gardiner girls, Georgiana's growing friendship with Miss Lucas and our upcoming plans.

Georgiana asked, "When do you suppose we will learn the plans decided upon for when the Miss Bennets and Miss Lucas will depart?"

"We should learn something tomorrow. They can hardly depart on Saturday if they do not decide on it by Friday." I hoped desperately that I would be permitted to escort them hither, would not be told to wait and bide my time.

"Perhaps it is better if they do depart on Saturday. Even _he_ cannot act so quickly. Miss Bennet will be safer if at a distance from _him_."

I nodded, "And what of you, Georgiana, shall you wish to travel to Netherfield with Mrs. Annesley? Unless things have changed George shall still be nearby with the militia. It is likely you may be in company together. He is a particular favorite of the younger Miss Bennets."

My whole household knew that George Wickham had lost our favor if not the particular reasons for it. Whenever we spoke of what had happened where others were about, we made all mentions of him vague so that no scandal could attach to my sister.

"I vowed to do my best to help you with Miss Elizabeth when we visited Lady Catherine and I have done my best with the same task here in London. Why should you think I would leave off now?" Georgiana asked, tipping her head slightly to one side.

"As much as I would welcome your company," I explained, "I would not for anything subject you to that man unless you are willing. Also, I am man enough to face Miss Elizabeth's father without your help."

"Undoubtedly you will. I doubt I should be called upon to join you for that most private of conversations, be welcomed for port and a pipe," the corner of Georgiana’s mouth quirked then, "yet I believe I may aide you with her sisters and mother, if not her father."

"Then I would welcome your presence."

"Should you mind if I invite my friends to join our dinner tomorrow?” Georgiana asked. “If we are departing soon, I should not wish to go without a proper leave-taking."

"Just as you like." I agreed without hesitation, although I would have preferred for our company to not grow larger. My sister asks for so little that I like to indulge her when she does. I added, "This is your home as well as mine, any you invite are always welcome, so long as the cook has ample warning." I wondered who she planned to invite and thus asked, "Who do you have in mind?"

"I am not sure," she responded. "I do not know who shall be at home when I call. I believe Miss Dinah Kendall is in town and perhaps Miss Pike. I should like to introduce the Miss Bennets and Miss Lucas to my friends. Mrs. Annesley and I shall make the rounds and return the calls I missed."

After dinner I listened as Georgiana practiced on the piano forte. When she was finished, she asked, "Is there an instrument at Netherfield?"

I was glad to be able to report that there was, and that Miss Bingley, Mrs. Hurst and Miss Elizabeth had all played upon it.

"I suppose I shall call upon the Hursts and the Bingleys as well," she told me, "as I missed the ladies' call this morning; they left their card."

"I know they are not your favorites," I responded, "but your courtesy is most appreciated."

"At our last dinner I found Miss Bingley somewhat improved," she responded. "I know Mr. Bingley's choices have impacted her chances to better her own consequence. I do not wish her to think I would turn my back on her over such a thing."

"You truly are a kind lady," I declared, "and the very best sister."

"You have none other to compare with me." She responded and winked.

"Still, you are my favorite."

"And, Brother, you are my favorite, too, even if Edwin would seek to claim the honorific of brother."

"Selfishly, I hope you would always refuse him such."

"Well as I have no plans to marry any of his brothers, I believe I may safely promise you that. I welcome him being our family, but the title of brother belongs to you alone. I must marry a man with only sisters as I wish for no other brother, Brother."

“Surely you would not reject a man solely because of the relations he has,” I bantered back. She owned that she would not.

I was content. It was a relief to retire after dinner without having had any serious talk or much worry on my mind, to have no special responsibilities waiting for me in the morning. Although I knew I should see my uncle the judge, I kept putting it off. I had not seen him since my father’s funeral and only two times before that as I recall; I am most uncomfortable around people that I do not know well and there was the added complication that he looked both like and unlike my father, which cause disquiet within me.

I woke refreshed and calm on Friday morning. I knew now was the most opportune time to deal with the matters which I had been putting off before I broke my fast, making sure everything was as ready as it could be before my imminent departure. Even now Netherfield was being opened and our servants would pack our trunks today in case we left on the morrow.

My solicitor had delivered drafts of a marriage contract and a new will the day before so while I would finalize nothing now, I took the time to peruse them and upon my review determined they would do. I also wrote letters informing my steward and others who would need to know of my relocation to Netherfield and the open-ended nature of my stay; I did not date those letters and left them unsealed as I did not want to send them before I departed.

I also penned a letter to Lady Catherine, telling her what Aunt Emmeline proposed for Georgiana and requesting her support in opposition to any such scheme. I also asked Lady Catherine about her perceptions as to where Edwin's loyalty lay between the Earl and me if he had to choose. I inquired as to how Anne got on and suggested that when she grew frustrated, she might enjoy a rocking chair. I recounted meeting Miss Elizabeth's aunt and uncle and the imminent departure for Netherfield. As there was still room to write cross-wise, I left it open as well as I thought I might add to it.

When I set this letter to the side, I realized my missive to my aunt had none of the stiff formality I had used in addressing letters to Lady Catherine before. Perhaps I truly had gained an aunt when she had given up the idea of being my mother-in-law. It was a pleasing thought as though I had not yet informed Lady Matlock, who I had formerly addressed as Aunt Emmeline, any previous closeness I had felt for her was at an end for her treatment of my sister, and I had previously disassociated myself from anything more than a polite formal relationship with Aunt Matilda Skeffington.

I also considered how many more relatives I might gain when I married Miss Elizabeth. The Gardiners though in trade were genteel and dignified, Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Phillips might be uncouth, but they seemed to have no clear malice. Of course, I was not pleased with how Mrs. Bennet treated Miss Elizabeth, praising her other daughters more and attempting to match her with Mr. Collins, but I could never hate the woman who brought my love into the world.

Mr. Bennet was hard for me to understand. I knew he was highly intelligent, a scholar, the source of many attributes I admired about Miss Elizabeth. However, from Miss Elizabeth I had learned that he enjoyed finding amusement in other people's foibles, was quick with sarcasm and a dry humor. Miss Elizabeth did not like that he belittled his wife in such a way that she was often oblivious to it. Mrs. Bennet for all her faults appears to be of at least average intellect, so she should understand most things as well as the average person would. So, if she could not decipher his meaning in these things, what chance did I have to understand him?

I had not a doubt that I could be easily confused and confounded by Mr. Bennet. I know that people can use the same words to mean very different things, but I have difficulty interpreting when the standard meaning is not intended.

It was very difficult for me as a child to understand how a combination of two words, might alter their meaning from when they were apart. While I grew to understand the standard meaning in words, phrases and sentences, and now have a highly expansive vocabulary, the tone of voice or facial gestures that may alert others to sarcasm, teasing or jokes is often lost on me. At least I would have Georgiana to help me where she could. But as there was nothing I could do to cure my deficit in this area, I decided to think on it no longer.

I had a leisurely morning after I broke my fast. I read the paper and enjoyed my coffee. I lingered to not arrive for our outing too soon. I was surprised that Edwin did not arrive before ten to travel there with me but determined to leave when I ought without him.

When I arrived, I quickly understood why Edwin had never came to my house. He was already at the Gardiners' home. Miss Elizabeth greeted me and then whispered, "He has been here an hour, claiming he mis-remembered the time my sister said to call." I checked my pocket watch and determined that I was right on time. I barely had time to exchange a few pleasantries with the ladies before Mrs. Gardiner proposed we set out.

Our party was so large that it required two carriages with all the children and the ladies, with Edwin and I riding our horses (although I believe if he had been given the choice, he would have gladly traveled with Mrs. Gardiner and Miss Bennet). Fortunately, Mrs. Gardiner had procured an additional carriage and driver from her neighbor for our outing. Mrs. Gardiner rode in one carriage with the two small boys and Miss Bennet, while Miss Elizabeth, Miss Lucas and the young Miss Gardiners rode in another.

When we alighted near the park, I assisted Miss Lucas out, followed by the two Miss Gardiners and finally Miss Elizabeth. I could see that Edwin was waiting by the other carriage to assist Miss Bennet out. There seemed to be some delay, but I reasoned it was because it was more difficult to get the younger Gardiners ready to exit.

We all walked over to the other carriage and I saw Mrs. Gardiner step down with Edwin's assistance, with him then helping the older Master Gardiner out. Mrs. Gardiner noted, “Unfortunately, Tommy fell asleep and has as good as trapped my niece.”

Edwin and I then moved to the right to have a better angle and viewed Miss Bennet through the open door. I could then see some of the charm Edwin saw in Miss Bennet. She was holding the youngest Master Gardiner, who must have been no more than two years of age, cradled in her arms. He gripped Miss Bennet's neck with one hand, his blond head heavy on her shoulder. He had his thumb in his mouth and his eyes were closed. This image recollected to me seeing my own dear mother holding a young Georgiana, a similar sweetness in her actions.

“Tommy napping could not have come at a worse time," said Mrs. Gardiner, holding the older boy's hand. "I would stay with him, but he is liable to wake if shifted and he did not sleep well last night. He does not take kindly to being awakened after having just fallen asleep, but John is eager to have his new milk."

"I will stay with my sister," Miss Elizabeth declared, "Miss Lucas can help you with the girls in my stead."

Miss Lucas agreed, and the girls went to take her hands. Edwin began volunteering to stay as well when the eldest Miss Gardiner tugged on his sleeve. "Please Mr. Colonel sir, you promised to accompany me!"

He crinkled his brow, but then smiled at her and then gallantly offering Miss Gardiner his arm.

"No, no Emma," her mother corrected, "you are much too young to take a man's arm that is not your father or another relative."

I waited and addressed myself to Mrs. Gardiner, "With your permission I would like to remain outside the carriage to protect the ladies." It was hardly necessary as the coachmen remained, though one of them was standing near where our mounts were hitched to the back of the last carriage.

I could tell Mrs. Gardiner was considering the matter while also anxious to be off as her older son was pulling on her hand in the direction of the park. "I suppose that will be acceptable" she said, "but mind that you stay well away from the carriage."

I nodded my agreement. I helped hand Miss Elizabeth in (not that she needed my assistance, but because I wished to hold her hand for that moment) and then retreated several feet.

The rest of the party then set off for the park and for the yet unseen milkmaid in the distance who would milk her cow before them and then pour the fresh milk from the bucket into a cup for them to drink. Such was thought most beneficial for the digestion, but as I was used to milk nearly as fresh at Pemberley, I certainly had no need to drink it now, not when the reason for this outing was in the carriage and not walking through the park with her aunt.


	15. Miss Bennet's Motive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth and Darcy get to talk outside the carriage while the others are on their outing and Darcy learns why Jane has been acting as she has around Edwin. Later, they return to the Gardiner home for tea and Elizabeth steals a few minutes with Darcy. During tea a pleasant time is had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The editing is going well. I hope to post a second chapter for you tomorrow, so be watching for that (or follow to get notifications). A lot of you have referenced the idea that Edwin is not good enough for Jane or will hurt her, so I am interested to know what you think of what you learn about her motivations in this chapter. The Bible verse that Jane references is John 8:11.

After a few minutes passed, Miss Elizabeth scurried down from the carriage and approached within a few feet of me. I admired her lithe form and her agility; it was clear she needed assistance from no one in exiting from the carriage.

I was pleased but also worried about not obeying her aunt's command. "Your aunt bid me stay well away from the carriage," I cautioned.

"And so, you have." Miss Elizabeth's eyes were bright, and she gave me a smile. "Do not worry, there is nothing too improper so long as we stay in view of Jane and the coachmen."

I glanced at their locations; none were near enough to hear us if we spoke quietly.

"And if Mrs. Gardiner had ordered you to remain in the carriage?"

"I suppose I would have obeyed, been a dutiful and proper niece but that would have been much less fun."

I examined the expression on her face, pondered the tone she had used. Was she being mirthful? But before I could decide, her expression changed entirely into something more solemn.

Miss Elizabeth said, "I have missed you so, Mr. Darcy, to have you close yesterday yet not to be able to speak frankly about all things has been a special kind of torture. I have been very worried about the attention the Colonel is paying to my sister. Can he be in earnest? What is the meaning of it all?"

I thought of how I had missed not just our freedom to converse openly, but how much my lips had missed hers, how much I longed to hold her safe in my embrace, free her from all worries and have her as my wife. I must have been silent too long, but she waited patiently until I answered.

"I thought at first he was playing a game, but now it seems he has convinced himself that he is smitten, even though he hardly knows her. What was his conduct like this morning before I arrived?"

Miss Elizabeth considered, "Today both the Colonel and Jane seemed less forward with each other than they were yesterday, although the Colonel still seemed eager for her attention. They mostly spoke of inconsequential things, but one odd thing occurred. He asked Jane if she had ever done anything she regretted and she said, 'Yes, a great many things.'

"This surprised me for I have never known Jane to be anything but sweet and kind to all, generous in how she sees others to a fault. I could see her regretting listening to me about you and what she said to Mr. Bingley before he departed Netherfield the first time, but I cannot imagine what else she might have to repine."

I nodded my acknowledgment.

"Then the Colonel asked—he seemed quite anxious when he asked—'what should one do if he has wronged another' and she told him, 'The Lord will not condemn thee if you go and sin no more.' Upon that pronouncement he seemed deep in thought. Do you know what it means that he asked such a thing of her?"

I suspected I knew far, far too well, but I was not sure I wanted to share such a thing with Miss Elizabeth. Although I had made some noise to Edwin about having to make his previous indiscretions known if he proposed, at such juncture I was not sure I should even hint at his improper conduct. While I had failed to keep the matter fully from my sister, that had been the result of her guess and not my disclosure.

I settled for telling Miss Elizabeth, "My cousin has made some poor choices regarding women and I know not whether he will continue in such a path or choose a different one."

"Ah, that is suitably vague to protect my delicate womanly ears." She smirked and waggled her eyebrows. "As you once hinted, he might be compared to Mr. Wickham, I hope the Colonel would not trifle with her or otherwise be dishonorable. Well mayhap Jane's words were of assistance to him."

"Perhaps." I neither wanted to confirm or clarify her speculations.

"What can he want with Jane? Does he really seek to court her?"

"It is strange," I reflected, "Edwin has always told me that he seeks an heiress, to have a practical match, but after he met your sister he began speaking of love. Georgiana and I both told him he does not know Miss Bennet well enough to have such feelings toward her and that he needs to rectify his life before seeking anything from your sister."

I considered further, "Initially I feared the misinformation I told him about your parents wanting Miss Bennet to marry before you could have caused Edwin to deliberately raise your sister's expectations (if he were indeed serving the Earl), so that then he could crush them, to make her too miserable to even think of seeking another. Such action (had indeed her having to marry first been true) would thus delay our understanding, give the Earl more time to work upon me and bend me to his will."

Miss Elizabeth nodded and asked, "So you do not think that his motivation now?"

"I do not," I confirmed. "My sister and I are both convinced he is in earnest. Also, whatever I might think about how he would act, I cannot think him to be so cold as seeking deliberately to harm one like Miss Bennet. It would be like . . ." I cast about for an analogy but came up short.

"Hurling a kitten off a parapet because it dared to curl up on your lap?" Miss Elizabeth supplied. "From our interactions in Kent, I do not think he would deliberately be cruel to my sister, but much might be done to please one's father. Though the Colonel told me much about you to dissuade me from accepting your affection, I believe even if he acted at his father's command, he also thought he was doing right by me."

I asked, "What is Miss Bennet's reaction to him? She seemed a bit forward herself yesterday."

"I was perplexed by that myself. For when we were by ourselves in the museum, she spotted a man with very light hair and hurried me in his direction only to pull up short when he turned, and it became apparent he was not Mr. Bingley. All she spoke of after that was wishing to see Mr. Bingley again. But then, during tea, well you observed her manners toward your cousin. It was as if she was deliberately trying to impress upon him that she wished for his attentions."

"And were you able to reconcile what she was about?"

"Yes, it all became clear when we talked last night. I asked Jane, meaning to shock her, 'Why are you acting the flirt like Lydia or Kitty?' Then she explained everything."

I waited then for Miss Elizabeth to tell me what her sister explained, but she said nothing further, just wrinkled her forehead, causing a line between her eyebrows which my fingers itched to soothe. Accordingly, I asked, "Can you speak of what she told you without betraying her confidence? I remember that in Kent you would only share the gist of Miss Bennet's letter regarding Bingley with me."

Miss Elizabeth pondered, lightly biting her bottom lip. The action was quite enticing though I am sure she did not mean it to be.

"I do not have her explicit permission, no, and I shall not tell you everything for I have no wish to embarrass her by revealing all the sort of talk women have with each other regarding potential matches, but I have considered the matter and believe that a woman should trust her would-be-husband. I would ask that if you speak of what I tell you with your sister or cousin that you be vague. However, the Colonel may need to hear some of what I will tell you."

I was happy for what her words meant about how Miss Elizabeth thought of me. "I am glad you trust me, Darling." Our eyes met and we both smiled. I was contemplating the future with joy, and I hope she was as well.

"Jane told me she was attempting to decipher whether Mrs. Collins's advice was correct, and she said that the Colonel gave her the perfect opportunity to test that advice. As Jane has noticed before that our younger sisters are very good at attracting men to themselves, she took their conduct as her guide for how to engage the interest of a man, although she directed this toward one object (unlike what they would have done)."

Miss Bennet acting in imitation of her youngest sisters? I spoke the first words that occurred to me, "How odd!"

Perhaps I looked confused for Miss Elizabeth exclaimed. "But, of course, you do not know what Mrs. Collins's advice was! I must explain it for this to make any sense. You see, I had told Charlotte when she was still Miss Lucas, that I believed Jane was well on the way to being very much in love with Mr. Bingley, but I thought it unlikely to be discovered by the world in general since Jane's strength of feeling is not much on display because of her general composure of temper and uniform cheerfulness.

"Charlotte replied that it could sometimes be a disadvantage to be so very guarded, for Jane concealing her affection might cause her to 'lose the opportunity of fixing him.' Yes, she said those very words. We then spoke further about the matter and Charlotte advised, 'there are very few of us who have heart enough to really be in love without encouragement. In nine cases out of ten, a woman had better shew _more_ affection than she feels.'"

I was astonished at such advice. "You would not do that with me, would you?" I blurted out.

"Of course not!" Miss Elizabeth hastened to respond, reaching out a hand toward me in what might have been intended to be reassurance before remembering herself and awkwardly drawing it back. "I would not risk my happiness or yours in such a way." Her lovely dark eyes sought mine out then and I longed to embrace her but stayed firmly in my place.

"But as for Charlotte's advice, I am not done with it by half. She told me that Jane needed to help Bingley on in falling in love with her and command his attention where she could. Charlotte then told me that when Jane had secured Mr. Bingley, she would have 'leisure for falling in love as much as she chuses.' At the time I thought the advice ridiculous, but it was evident that Charlotte used it to gain herself a proposal from Mr. Collins only days after I rejected his absurd proposal to me."

I could not help but be grateful that the former Miss Lucas had so successfully diverted Mr. Collins from pursuing Miss Elizabeth further. I hoped Mrs. Collins would continue to be content with her choice.

"Given such evidence I could not wonder if Charlotte had the right of it. Not that a woman should act in such a mercenary fashion, you understand, but that if Jane had been more demonstrative in her affection, showing what was indeed present, that Mr. Bingley might not have left at all or would have swiftly returned.

"Indeed, within minutes of learning that Mr. Bingley had returned to Netherfield again, I could not help but share with Jane all of Charlotte's former advice. For you see, I wanted to be as helpful to my sister as I could."

"Naturally. And did Miss Bennet attempt use this technique with Bingley?" I asked.

"I saw no evidence of it," Miss Elizabeth replied, "but I believe she regretted not doing more to secure him when left the second time. I believe it was Jane's intention to show Mr. Bingley the depth of her feeling if she could but see him in London. That is, of course, beyond her believed friendship with them, the reason why she called upon his sisters in London. You see, even then Jane believed they were fond of her and would want their brother's happiness."

"So, Miss Bennet was playing a sort of game with my cousin?" I asked, dismayed. Everything was turned upside down. Was Edwin even now contemplating life altering decisions over a woman who had no true interest in him?

"I do not believe Jane intended it as such. She told me that the Colonel is a very pleasant conversationalist, she found his attention pleasing, and she wondered what would happen if she gave him further encouragement. I think his subsequent behavior in response made her believe Mrs. Collins's advice was sound."

"Does she feel anything for my cousin?" I was now growing worried that Edwin, rather than Miss Bennet, was the vulnerable one.

"Jane says he is good company and greatly entertaining, and she would not object to knowing him better. But she mostly spoke about Mr. Bingley rather than the Colonel."

Miss Elizabeth sighed then and shook her head back and forth in a "no." I studied her expression and determined she looked sad. I wished I could take her into my arms and comfort her. The physical distance we had to maintain for propriety's sake was abhorrent to me.

"Jane asked me if by being forward with the Colonel she had betrayed Mr. Bingley. I told her she could hardly betray someone who had made her no promises and if he ever had, evidently no longer held her in affection. Then it was as if a dam broke, for her lip began to tremble and then how the tears poured forth! I felt a most horrible sister, for putting things so bluntly, but I worry about her continued focus on Mr. Bingley as an object."

Miss Elizabeth crossed her arms. "It is not right; she is made for marriage and motherhood. While I could envision myself as a doting spinster aunt, I always imagined her surrounded by half a dozen little ones. My cousins find me entertaining but seek her out when they have hurt themselves or need affection, as my sisters and I all did when we were younger, save for Lydia who always found that with our mother."

"My Love," I told her, savoring the feeling of that word on my lips, my tongue, "I doubt not that you shall be an excellent mother as well. I have seen how you cared for your sister when she was ill. You will do as well to soothe a hurt as she. Children need both nurturer and adventurer, rule maker and entertainer, a teacher and someone who can be silly. Your many qualities cannot but benefit our future children." We exchanged another smile, and I could not help but think with longing about how it would be when we were married, and the actions needed to procure said children.

Just then I heard a tapping. Miss Elizabeth turned back toward the carriage containing her sister and I noted it was Miss Bennet tapping on the window and gesturing.

"I must be off; Jane must spy our aunt." She scurried away and within moments it was as if Miss Elizabeth had never left the carriage.

When the rest of the party returned, Mrs. Gardiner was eager to go back to her home. She invited us for tea which both Edwin and I accepted.

When we arrived back at the Gardiners' home, the carriage with Miss Elizabeth, her friend and the Gardiner daughters arrived first. I helped them step down with no assistance from Edwin as he had ridden beside the other carriage rather than by me. We lingered outside, awaiting the others.

The second carriage arrived perhaps a minute later, with Edwin beside it. Edwin dismounted, handed the reins to a waiting boy, and then opened the carriage door and helped Mrs. Gardiner out. The oldest boy then exited on his own. Miss Bennet was next, but Edwin could not help her down as her arms were still filled by a slumbering Tommy Gardiner.

Instead, Edwin stood near Miss Bennet as she carefully stepped down. His hand was outstretched as if to catch her should she stumble, but she managed to exit without undue difficulty.

Noticing us, Miss Bennet told us, "Pardon me, but I must get Tommy to the nursery," and began slowly walking back into the house. Edwin trailed after her with nary a word.

Mrs. Gardiner took one look in their direction and then hurried after them, apparently more concerned with leaving them alone, than leaving me with her niece, Miss Lucas and the young Miss Gardiners. Naturally, though, her daughters followed her inside and Miss Lucas when with them.

I offered my arm to Miss Elizabeth to escort her in, also, but she held back. Already the horses had been led away to a nearby stable where they would be housed until we left and the coachmen had departed with the coaches, so although we were in view of the street, we were alone.

Miss Elizabeth looked about and apparently satisfied with what she had seen, she tugged me by the hand and walked me to the side of the house which had a tree or two. It was certainly not the privacy of the countryside, but in the sheltering concealment of the shadow of the trees, she approached me with welcoming outstretched arms.

I did not have to be told what she wanted and pulled her into an embrace even while my eyes were still darting about to see if anyone might spy us. Her face was against my chest and our arms encircled the other.

It was most wonderful, just what I had longed for all the time when we were talking by the carriage, save for wishing for a kiss or two, but I was determined not to dishonor her again. Even our embrace was too much, but still . . . I could not refuse that to either of us.

We held each other for perhaps a minute and a half and said nothing. It was much too short of a time and I did not wish for it to end, but it was I who loosened my grip and attempted to pull back, noting "My Darling, your aunt will be missing us. We ought to go inside."

Still, Miss Elizabeth did not release me, and I felt my own arms tightening about her once more. I thought if marriage consisted of nothing more than being able to hold her, I would still be well content.

She told me, "I know we should be proper, should not be here now, but still . . . let me have this much for a little while longer."

What could I do? I wanted to hold her longer as well. However, after another minute elapsed, my conscience required me to speak up once again, and this time she let me go. We hurried back around to the front, a polite distance apart, her not even holding my arm, and entered the house.

Mrs. Gardiner was lingering near the front door; she gave us a look and said, "There will be no more of that." Edwin chuckled and smirked, Miss Lucas merely smiled, and the Gardiner girls seemed oblivious.

I wondered what exactly Mrs. Gardiner and the rest thought we had been doing. If they thought we had been kissing, what a pity that we had not done exactly that!

We went from the entryway to Mrs. Gardiner's dining room table and sat about the table while waiting for the tea to arrive. The Gardiner girls and Miss Lucas happily recounted all the particulars about the outing for new milk.

Once there was a pause in the conversation, Edwin asked no one in particular "Do you suppose Miss Bennet will return soon?"

Miss Elizabeth responded, "I would not be surprised if she intends to let Tommy sleep his whole nap upon her person; he is usually a fitful sleeper and will likely awaken in a poor mood should she try to set him down."

Edwin then asked Mrs. Gardiner, "Will refreshments be sent to Miss Bennet as well?" and seemed pleased when she told him they would be.

After that, Edwin focused his attentions on the Miss Gardiners much as an indulgent uncle might, making a great show of treating the Miss Gardiners with every grace he would show to any lady. It was evident that Miss Emma Gardiner and Miss Grace Gardiner were delighted by him. One Miss Gardiner sat on his right, the other on his left. I, myself, had Mrs. Gardiner on my right and Miss Elizabeth on my left with Miss Lucas beyond her.

The tea has not yet arrived when young John Gardiner raced into the dining room, a carved toy horse in his arms. He said, "Look at what I have got," and placed it into Edwin's hands.

"Tis a fine beast indeed, young Master Gardiner," Edwin told him, "a delightful work of artistry and proportions, so very like many fine horses although of a greatly diminished size."

The child begged, "Please Mr. Colonel, sir. Tell me more stories about the cavalry!"

Edwin replied, "Gladly, if you mother thinks you mannerly enough to join us for tea." The tea had just arrived, and Mrs. Gardiner was now pouring it.

Mrs. Gardiner nodded but warned, "You must be on your best behavior, John, or you must wait many a year to join your elders when we have guests again, and as for your horse, it belongs below the table."

Edwin offered the horse back to the child and offered, "As soon as you lay your horse down, Master Gardiner, I shall tell you of another horse who lay down as part of his service to the crown." He then regaled us with the story of a young horseman under his command who had a special method for spying upon the enemy. "Tufts would ride his horse near the enemy's anticipated path and wait. He had taught his horse, Blackie, to lie down in the tall grass and stay quiet. As the enemy approached, he would then climb a tree to spy upon them. No one ever spotted him or his horse."

The maid returned with a plate of cut apples and a plate of biscuits and then another teacup for John.

I felt a renewed admiration for Edwin as he entertained the children and captured the attention of all others present. I took advantage of this fact by grasping Miss Elizabeth's right hand which was briefly under the table as she had removed her gloves and put them on her lap. After giving her hand three squeezes which were rapidly returned, I lightly caressed her palm with my thumb.

Although I looked at Edwin as he shared another story, I felt very conscious of the hand in mine and her whole person beside me. But all too soon, Miss Elizabeth withdrew her hand from mine so she might partake of the tea now before her.

I remembered Edwin was always one for telling stories to his younger sisters and Georgiana. He treated them as worthy of his attention, was willing to play games and entertain them. Though, undoubtedly, he knew his actions on this occasion might impress Mrs. Gardiner and when she heard of them, Miss Bennet, too, I believe he paid them this attention because he genuinely wanted to do so.

I wish I had his ease. Even now I was still more awkward and stiff with these children that would be my cousins than I wished to be. Though they were yet but children it was still difficult to meet their eyes.

It was a pleasant time. In Miss Bennet's absence, I did not need to analyze all of Edwin's actions. Instead, I was able to observe Edwin's kind attentions to the children and enjoy his stories. I thought back to what Miss Elizabeth had said about her sister being made to be a mother. It seemed, perhaps, that Edwin was made to be a father.

I thought about how many society ladies and men might have very little interaction with their own children. Instead, their large staff would raise them. I believe this was generally true as to how Edwin and his siblings were raised, though the Earl took more interest in his heir. I, myself, had more care from my mother as it was in her nature, and some attention from my father as his heir.

Perhaps the Bennets had no governess for their children not as a matter of economy but because Mrs. Bennet truly desired to raise them herself. Perhaps that was what Mrs. Gardiner was doing too, though I believe she at least had the assistance of a nursemaid. Mrs. Gardiner, though, seemed much more capable of raising sensible little ones than Mrs. Bennet.

When the tea concluded I insisted, "We must be going now."

While I was ready to simply depart, Edwin made conversation out in the hall, his eyes regularly looking down a hall that appeared to lead to the chambers. However, whatever hope he had that Miss Bennet might appear was never satisfied. So, when I once again said, "We must be going now," he agreed, "I suppose you are right." However, it took another five minutes before he made any movement toward leaving.


	16. The Earl's Demand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edwin tells Darcy what the Earl has ordered Edwin to do.

After we had mounted our horses but not yet set off, Edwin asked, “May I accompany you home? There is much I must discuss with you.”

I nodded my agreement, believing he wished to speak some more about Miss Bennet.

When we arrived, I asked him to my study and then sat behind my desk. I felt more secure knowing that the expanse of my desk was between us, but I did not feel at ease. I did not want whatever hope he had of Miss Bennet cause problems for me and, also, did not want to dash his hopes, if that was what I might be doing when I conveyed what I had learned about why Miss Bennet had acted as she had and how Bingley was still her focus. 

While I expected Edwin to alight in the chair in front of my desk, he did not yet sit. Instead, he strode around my office, looked out the window and even straightened a painting of my father’s favorite horse that yet hung in the study just as it had when it belonged to my father.

I wished I had thought to have some string to run through my fingers under the cover of my desk. In my current mood, I did not trust myself with Miss Elizabeth’s ribbon, but very much wanted something to give me relief.

I asked, "Edwin, what did you wish to speak to me about?”

Edwin said nothing for a time, just continued to stride around and about, until finally he plopped into the chair. He said, “I have some unwelcome intelligence that I must share with you. You see, last night at dinner the Earl took much pleasure in reminded me of my responsibilities and all the ways I have failed him and eventually it all came back around to you and Georgiana."

Edwin looked at me as he rapidly recited the list of his father’s grievances; his gaze was so intense that within a few moments I had to look away.

"Do you know I should have sought to rise to General or gallantly lost my life in service not of king or country but to cloak my family in substantial glory? And while helping you between postings at your father's request, the sole purpose I should have had in doing so (rather than simply being of use because you were family) was to impress Mr. Darcy enough so that he would either chose to bypass you and make me heir for all the Darcy properties not restricted by entail or persuade him to arrange a betrothal between me and your sister, get him to declare you unfit to inherit and convey all his wealth to her so that I might gain all he had in that way.

“But the Earl, in his generosity noted that perhaps, just perhaps, George Darcy died too soon for that to come to pass.” Edwin paused for a moment, I looked at him again then, and then he said as an aside, “as if I ever would have sought that,” before adding, “so my father did not truly blame me for that failure.

“Next, after I resigned my commission, having only gained a modest estate for my trouble, I was to integrate myself with you by doing all I could to make you rely on me alone, so that when the time came you would listen to my counsel about marrying Anne, thus secure Rosings. And then, I was to convince you to not make her truly your wife so you would leave all to your sister. I was also to match myself or one of my brothers to Georgiana so that we might eventually gain the handsome prize of two estates.

“Of course, when I had to return home and report that I failed at matching you to Anne, the Earl instructed me that it was doubly important that I ensure that Georgiana's dowry did not go to waste. He very much still hoped, then and now, that she might inherit after being joined in matrimony to our family. He set my mother to the task of convincing her to accept the addresses of one of my brothers as you well know."

All of this was about what I had surmised before, and while I felt a certain amount of distress at hearing it confirmed, it was bearable, but observing Edwin’s next actions made me think something worse was to come. Edwin paused and ran his hand through his sandy hair, setting it up in odd angles. Then he loudly cracked his knuckles, first on his right and hand then his left.

"Of course, Georgiana inheriting from you hinges on you being declared incompetent or remaining single. While he has some doubt of success should he seek to establish the former, has some inkling your uncle the judge would stand in his way and thus is not inclined to try that route, he is doubly anxious to prevent you from marrying and having legal issue, a fact the Earl reminded me of last night with us in much the same position as we are now."

Edwin gestured to the desk between us. I had been on the other side of the Earl's desk before as I well-remembered. The Earl's chair was raised quite high like a throne behind a massive mahogany desk, while the stool on the other side was quite low. My study was not like that.

"He demanded to know ‘Is it true that Darcy is now set to marry to a country girl of good breeding stock?’ I was caught flat footed as I knew not how he came to have such information, for I said not a word of this to him (although I had hinted after returning to Kent that there was a woman who had caught your fancy).

“I pled ignorance, but he then asked, ‘Edwin, how could you not know? You accompanied a large party which included her and her family to the British Museum yesterday.’”

I felt a tightness in my chest at this news. I had not wanted the Earl to know of my interest or intent towards Miss Elizabeth until we were safely wed and back at Pemberley. However, I did nothing but give a quick nod of understanding to Edwin, as I needed him to continue his torrent of words. During this time, my eyes would alight on his for a few moments before darting away when it became too much.

“The Earl then accused me of betraying him. However, he told me there was still a way for me to demonstrate my loyalty by breaking your engagement apart by any means necessary. He told me," here his voice grew deeper in imitation of the Earl, "Son, you have been a failure most of your life, do not fail me now. Use any means you can to stop such a marriage. If you cannot work on Darcy you must work on his bride: scare her, compromise her, bribe her or her father, I care not what you do. Pemberley is too great a prize to remain with that imbecile and his degraded line.”

These instructions of the Earl raised such horror within me. So much so that my hands began to shake, and I had to grab the edges of my desk to still them. But Edwin was still not through. “Then the Earl instructed me, ‘Edwin, once you succeed at that task, you will return to Rosings and gain Anne's hand.’”

Edwin ran his fingers through his hair once more and then took a ragged breath. "Though I am my father's son to command I cannot act in such a manner, cannot do any of it. My honor and every feeling cry out against it.”

Edwin seemed to fold in upon himself then, and in a quiet voice that I had to strain to hear, he continued, “However, the Earl told me, ‘Edwin, if you fail again you should not expect to return home.’ And then, it was terrible to behold, he stared at me as if he could look into my soul and see I needed more incentive for he said then . . .”

Edwin took in a big huff of air, while I half stood, leaning forward with my hands pressing down upon the desk, waiting for what more he could reveal, “He told me ‘And do not think you might then reside with your mistress for long. I am quite certain that she will be more than willing to join my stable of mares when your money dries up.’ _Stable_ Fitz, I knew he had a mistress or two but how many is a _stable_ of them and what has he done, will he do to add Sylvia to them?"

There was silence then. I thought Edwin was waiting for me to respond to him but felt too flummoxed to yet say anything. Then he moaned, a mournful, hurtful sound that an animal might make while in great physical pain. It was unmistakably a sound of great distress; an outcry for when there were no words to be found.

I felt myself wishing to comfort Edwin, but I also wanted to retreat away from him for my own feelings of distress threatened to overwhelm me. I wished to flee to my chambers, to cover myself up in the bed and pretend that nothing else existed.

I forced myself to leave the sanctuary of my desk and approach him, even though all the muscles in my body were tight with worry. Horrible images were running through my mind about what the Earl might do, to Miss Elizabeth, Georgiana, Anne, Edwin and Miss Vaughn. Still, I wished to do something for my cousin who was clearly in great distress.

"Need you wine, a drink?" I asked.

"No Fitz. I need to keep all my wits about me. I would be tempted to partake too much."

I took the chair next to him, no desk would now separate us. He gave me a half smile when I joined him.

"I must finish while I yet have sufficient bravery. I was so angry with the Earl then, yet I said nothing, politely expressed my understanding and then left. I had not the courage you have shown me."

I lay one hand upon his shoulder and gave a slight squeeze that I intended to be comforting. It came to me that I had hardly ever touched him before, except when we embraced as he cried for his sisters. Men seldom did. Knowing that Georgiana's gentle squeeze of my arm could comfort me, I wanted to offer something similar to Edwin. He seemed to relax slightly.

Eventually, Edwin began to speak again. “Later in the evening, after I had settled myself a bit, I left to see my Sylvia yet shared nothing with her. I just wanted to hold her, seek comfort in her embrace, all the while wondering if the Earl had yet approached her. The governess I knew had no interest in him, but perhaps the woman I made her into would.

“While I did not tell her anything of what had distressed me, it was clear to her (as it would have been to anyone), that I was out of sorts. She begged me to tell her what was bothering me, but I could talk of none of it. How could I tell her what the Earl had planned for her if I did not do his bidding, or how I had been dreaming of wedding another and considering whether or how to end our association in a manner that would do her no harm?

“Sylvia held me to her breast and, as must be common occurrence for those of her profession, proceeded to offer herself to me, I believe as a means of consoling me. Please, you must believe me that although our interactions are frequent, I do not visit her just for those, had last night only been seeking the comfort of her presence, rather than the solace of her body. But when she placed my hands upon her, unbuttoned my fall and lifted her skirt, I did what any man would do. But afterwards I could not sleep there in her bed.”

Edwin paused, and took a breath. While I did not approve of his actions, I understood he was deeply distressed. I squeezed his shoulder once more. He reached up a hand to my shoulder, and in laying his hand there our arms bridged the space between our chairs.

"I then returned home and sought out my mother. I had this ridiculous hope that if I requested her help in finding an heiress that I would not have to marry Anne. She told me, ‘That road is foreclosed now, you ought to have acted sooner. You must do you duty and marry Anne.’ I lay awake in my bed much of the night and when I slept nightmares haunted me."

I gave his shoulder one last squeeze before dropping my hand back to the arm of my chair; he did the same with his hand.

“Finally, when dawn was breaking, I arose and refreshed myself and then called upon the Gardiners as early as I believed I could. You may think it odd of me that in facing such circumstances I would still visit the Gardiners, but that family offered such normalcy, was a pleasant distraction.

“I thought, perhaps, I could be more rational about Miss Bennet. I thought that being in the purity of her presence that somehow I would be cleansed, but instead I felt all the weight of betrayal on me instead.”

“Is that then why you asked Miss Bennet this morning what you should do if you have wronged another?” I asked, recalling my earlier conversation with Miss Elizabeth.

“Yes, what irony of ironies, asking a woman who you might love, what to do when you have betrayed her, the very evening after you fell in love with her, and then want to take it all back. Still, even though she was much less encouraging than the day before, I fear she has captured my heart.”

I ignored his claims of love, focused instead on what she had told him. “From what Miss Elizabeth related, her sister offered you good advice.”

“To sin no more?” Edwin forced out a dry chuckle that had no mirth in it. “Do you not understand how impossible that is? It only made me feel how truly unworthy I am. You tried to tell me yesterday, but I was in no mood to listen, but today it is all too clear I am not fit to be a match for someone like her.”

Edwin's voice pitched oddly now, and I perceived him to be in some state of continuing distress. He paused and swallowed thickly before finishing with, “All I want, tis all impossible.”

I said nothing. I did not want to tell him that all would be well, for I did not know that myself.

Then Edwin opined, "I think Miss Bennet has the sort of generosity of spirit that she would forgive my trespasses if I can but set things right, but there is no time for anything if they do indeed leave on the morrow. I know you plan to follow. I would suggest you take Georgiana with you and keep her well-guarded, the Bennets, too!"

"You think them in some danger?" My plans for gradually winning over Miss Elizabeth's father were quickly being overthrown.

Edwin stared off into space as he continued, "My father has many more to command then just me. I have seen his ruthlessness before. Where other men play chess or cards, he plays with people. He is all about achieving a winning hand. The win is more important than any consequences."

He stood up and paced and I had the sense that more was to come.

"Did you know that my eldest brother Robert had already been rejected by his bride when my father intervened? The Earl, while approving of his choice called him a callow youth to ask for her hand before he was certain of his success by having prearranged the matter between the Earl and the Duke.

“The Earl arranged a devious plot in which a spying scandal embroiling her family including the future Duke, would be averted through the gift of Lady Edith's hand. As the family has extensive holdings in France as well as England, and a brother serving below Prince Fredrick, such a plot was believable though untrue. Certainly, Lady Edith's family could not afford either their own disgrace or that of embroiling Prince Fredrick in another scandal.

“The Earl wanted me to give evidence against them, only relenting when I pointed out my division had no connection to them and I had been out of the cavalry too long. Lady Edith hates our family now, though she does her duty to my brother, plays the dutiful daughter to my mother and father. In the Earl winning her hand for my brother, Robert has lost any chance for happiness in marriage, but the Earl cares not, he says 'she is a proper ornament for his arm, will improve the status of his line, and Robert's happiness can be found with a mistress.'"

Edwin looked at me again. "The Earl will not hesitate long if he thinks I am ineffective. Perhaps it would have been better for all concerned if you had married Anne though you love her not. The Bennets have not the means to stand against him and you have made few allies."

I felt some despair now and felt my body begin to rock in the chair in its own attempt to soothe me. I hated how this would make me look to Edwin, but this action was preferable to many of the others.

Edwin did not seem to notice as he continued without pause. "The Earl need do nothing regarding Anne just yet, as Lady Catherine guards her most judiciously and she is unlikely to be matched with anyone outside our family. However, I suggest you send Lady Catherine an express to be on her guard."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

"As for you and Miss Elizabeth, I suggest you purchase a common license as I think the Earl would act against you before you could have the bans read thrice, perhaps pay someone to claim to be your wife or otherwise defame your name or hers. I hope you can convince her father to let her marry before her sister for there will be no waiting that long."

"Miss Bennet wedding first is not a true impediment," I confessed. "Georgiana and I meant to use such misinformation to test where your loyalties lay. I am sorry."

Edwin considered and nodded thoughtfully. "I supposed I am not surprised that you think so little of me. I have been a loyal soldier all of my life, carrying out all commands regardless of my personal feelings. I tried to reconcile myself to those I disliked, told myself they were not so bad and yet each time I have failed, what the Earl next required of me was worse.

“Although I wear no livery, I have always been his servant. I wish I had a true father as you had, rather than simply the Earl. Maybe it is better that my sisters are gone, who knows what marriages he would have brokered for them to advance his own game."

Edwin was silent then and I thought about what he had said and what needed to be done. "If you are willing, we must speak to Mr. Gardiner about the part of this relating to Miss Elizabeth. Something must also be done to secure Miss Vaughn, though I suggest that you first make sure she is willing to do whatever you propose. If she truly would prefer the Earl, you must let her make her choice. Perhaps a marriage could be arranged for her if you are willing to give her up, if you can pay a sweetener to her future husband."

Edwin barely considered before he replied, "Although I have not yet met him, I am willing to speak to Mr. Gardiner. From what you have told me, Miss Bennet’s father seems to be an indolent sort who may not take this matter as seriously as he ought. If Mr. Gardiner is as sensible as his wife, he may need to impress on her father the need to adequately protect his daughter.”

“As for doing something for Sylvia, I believe the most I can afford is about $5,000 pounds. That is what I have cleared in five years on my estate which has not been reinvested in the land. I had hoped to use it to purchase some adjoining fields but securing Sylvia’s independence is much more important. I think, perhaps, I am willing to let her go if that is her preference. However, if I put this full amount towards her, when my father cuts me off, I shall have barely enough funds to employ my valet and my steward. I shall have nothing to live upon myself."

I reassured Edwin, “You need not fear destitution or poverty. You may have a home with Georgiana and me if need be, but I will not pay to support your mistress, nor have such immorality in my homes. She is not my responsibility, although I will help you in facilitating her transition to another role."

Edwin seemed a bit calmer now that we were seeking solutions. I felt my rocking slow down also.

"I do not see how I could afford Sylvia in the long term should my allowance dry up, so perhaps it is time to give her up,” he offered. “It will cut me to the quick, and no man wishes to return to only the comfort of his own hand, but I must need think of what is best for her. But I know not how to arrange things for her, to find Sylvia an appropriate husband, if that be her desire. She cannot remain in London without my protection, and the Earl might find her if we relocated her to Derbyshire."

I thought and considered several possibilities. "Would you be willing to enlist Bingley's help? He is a most devoted friend to me and would want to help me and mine. I know he has an extensive family in Scarborough in trade and has many other connections. From what I know, tradesmen are a practical sort, less concerned with a woman’s virtue and more concerned with the other qualities a woman might bring to a marriage. Hopefully, that would be far enough to ensure her relative safety if we could but get her there unnoticed."

He nodded, "Do you think Bingley and his family would help Sylvia?"

"I believe so but cannot speak for him. I would suggest you leave now to discuss matters with Miss Vaughn,” I would not call her by the more familiar appellation that he used, “but keep the discussion general in case she is in communication with the Earl or one of her household servants is. Leave my and Bingley's names completely out of it as well as all discussion of where she would end up, and when this might take place, but reassure her that her safety is of paramount concern to you and that you would find her someone who would appreciate her. You might even ask what qualities she would seek in a husband.

“If you can, return for dinner so we may talk with Mr. Gardiner afterwards. Perhaps it is best if you sleep at your father’s home and try to convince your father that you intend to follow his commands, but know that my door is open to you, now and always, should you need it."

Edwin nodded, rose and straightened his clothes. "I thank you for your counsel and shall do as you suggest.” When he would have left, I told him to wait a bit and summoned Jeffrey to attend to him and remedy his hair. Looking more as he ought, he quickly left.


	17. Unexpected Guests

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy, still in a poor mood from his previous conversation with Edwin, finds that Georgiana has invited some unexpected guests to dinner. Elizabeth does something unexpected at dinner and Darcy learns from Elizabeth about a letter her father sent her uncle.

After Edwin departed, I realized I had forgotten to inform him about what I had learned from Miss Elizabeth about Miss Bennet, that she had not the same interest in him, as he had in her. However, I soon decided that Edwin’s decisions relative to Miss Vaughn did not hinge on being successful in any pursuit of Miss Bennet. In fact, in settling an amount on Miss Vaughn to facilitate _her_ marriage, he was unlikely to be able to seek a marriage of _his_ own with anyone for some time to come; he would not be able to afford it.

I retreated to the safety of my chambers, having resolved to have some time to myself. I wanted to be at my best around our dinner guests and my thoughts were all in turmoil from what Edwin had related. I was also trying to cope with his strong emotions which were highly disconcerting. While I had tried to be decisive for Edwin, what he needed in that moment, when I was alone again, I had many, many doubts; felt inadequate to the achieving the needed tasks.

What was I thinking to try to order Edwin's actions? For many years I did not even order many of my own. I had to trust in others to guide me, even now trusted my young sister more than myself. I, who was the master, the man, supposed to oversee all, was dependent upon a minor, a young woman, with very little experience in the world. Yet she was far more equipped to navigate in it than I, a man with many more years.

As I reflected further, I began to think lay out a map, a sequence for what I should do. For the coming conflict with the Earl, I would need allies. There was my uncle the judge; certainly, I should go see him. And there were my father’s friends; perhaps some of them could still be called on for assistance, would have some loyalty to me out of respect for my father. Too, there was Lady Catherine. Though she spent most of her time at Rosings, she still had close contact with the rest of the de Bourgh family. While Bingley was returned to trade, some of his University friends that had grown to accept me had succeeded their fathers and become powerful men. Perhaps I was not as unprotected as I had thought if I could but figure out how to muster such troops.

Jeffrey arrived and helped me dress for dinner, but once prepared not even the thought of being in the presence of Miss Elizabeth again could spur me to leave the safety of my room, the comfort of my familiar walls, of having everything arranged just as I wanted. I could not abide guests yet; it was just too soon while I still felt so wretched and overwhelmed.

As the minutes marched on, I only felt my inadequacy more. How could I combat the Earl if I could not even face my guests?

When it was perhaps half past their scheduled arrival time, I imagined what was happening in my absence. Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley would be making excuses for me, Miss Elizabeth would be watching the door, awaiting me.

I had a choice to make. I could cower like a coward, or be a man who did what he ought, was worthy of her. I finally mustered the wherewithal to move, forcing myself to stand, then to walk to the door, then to open it and venture out. With each movement toward them, I convinced myself to proceed to the next step. As I made my way down, I resolved that I would not let my inner turmoil show. Instead, I would apologize for my delay and be a proper host.

As I walked toward the usual room in which we host guests, a manservant told me, “Mr. Darcy, your guests are in the small parlor.” This was bit odd as we usually entertained in the larger one.

While I was approaching the doors to the small parlor, I heard Bingley’s voice, or what seemed very like to it. I paused, uncertain. Then I heard someone who I was almost positive was Miss Bingley. Then there was Georgiana’s voice, and Miss Elizabeth’s. I shook my head in confusion. What could Bingley and his sisters be doing there, with our other guests?

I assembled the pieces to form a whole as I stood outside the parlor doors, readying myself for what I would find inside. While I knew Georgiana was going to see friends, was planning on returning a call from Miss Bingley, and I knew she was possibly going to invite friends to dinner, she had misdirected me from seeing what must have been her intent from the beginning, to bring Bingley and Miss Bennet together again.

I felt foolish that I had not anticipated what Georgiana would do. I had thought I had dissuaded her from trying to match Bingley with Miss Bennet.

At last, I forced my hand to pull open the door and entered the room. I immediately spotted Bingley and Miss Bennet; they were sitting on opposite sides of a sofa, half facing away from each other, each talking with a person on the other side, Miss Bennet with her sister and Bingley with Mrs. Gardiner. But that was only their posture for the half second or so it took for everyone to hear the door and see me there. Then everyone was looking in my direction and I wished I could just flee.

Instead, I told everyone, “I must apologize for my delay. Certain business matters interfered.” Even as I told the lie, I felt guilt.

I looked about and noticed that Bingley’s whole family was in attendance, even Mr. Hurst, but Edwin was not there. I wondered where Edwin was and hoped he would miss dinner entirely as nothing could be more awkward than adding him to the mix.

"Oh, hello Brother." Georgiana got up and moved towards me and while her back was to the others quickly spoke in a whisper, "Where have you been, Brother? I could have used your help. Mr. Bingley and Miss Bennet are ignoring each other!"

I gave her no answer. The others began to greet me now. Miss Bingley, who was dressed finer than the rest, said “Oh Darcy, I was so pleased when dear Georgiana invited us to dinner and I certainly never expected that our friends from Hertfordshire should be in attendance, too.”

Although Miss Bingley was smiling, there was something in the cast of her face or the tone of her voice which made me think she might not be quite as pleased as she indicated. But I could not decide if I was right or not.

“Yes, it was very kind of you to host us before you leave London again,” Bingley told me.

I returned their greetings before hissing back at my sister, "I told you not to interfere." I felt no duty to remedy the situation my sister had created. I was worn out from my earlier conversation with Edwin and it was all I could do to attempt to be polite to all. She said nothing and walked back to her own seat. Then the conversations which had been interrupted from my arrival resumed.

I hesitated as to where to go as there were no more seats available. We had much more seating in the other parlor as it was our preferred location for entertaining, so I could only conclude that our present location was due to Georgiana's machinations. I gathered that although Georgiana had somehow conspired to make Bingley sit next to Miss Bennet, that was as far as her planning had succeeded.

I determined to join Miss Elizabeth and Miss Bennet, but beyond our initial exchange of greetings they seemed uncertain what to say now that I was there. It must have been a bit awkward for them to be addressing me from their seated position while I stood. Fortunately, it was only moments later that the announcement was made that dinner was ready to be served.

We all rose, and I moved immediately to escort Miss Elizabeth to the table and left it to the others to decide who would escort whom. I had a vague sense that Miss Bingley was hurrying after me on no one’s arm but paid her no mind.

Just after I entered the dining room and was assisting Miss Elizabeth into her seat, Miss Bingley paused near us and remarked, “Darcy, I must say I am surprised that you decided to return to Hertfordshire, to take up the lease at Netherfield for a time. I do not understand the appeal of that little hamlet, what draws men to visit that part of the country, although fortunately my brother thought the better of it after his last visit. I thought you to be more sensible, that we had agreed that the company to be had in London was far superior.”

I looked over at Miss Bingley and responded, “What is it to you?” After the words left my mouth, I understood I had given an overly harsh response, had not been kind in the least.

Miss Bingley’s face drooped, and she hurried away from me. I resolved to speak as little as possible rather than release an angry man and offend. I let the mask my father had me cultivate slip into place, polite and indifferent.

Georgiana had arranged the seating at dinner as well, so naturally Miss Bennet and Bingley were grouped together again. I was at the head of the table with Miss Elizabeth to my right. I thought, _at least Georgiana got that right_ , but I did not enjoy myself as I ought to have. Miss Elizabeth gave me more than one glance with her brow furrowed, I think trying to determine what was wrong besides the combination of dinner guests, but formal dining was certainly not the place for that discussion.

My hope for Edwin's absence vanished when he was announced and sat in the empty chair next to Miss Bennet. He seemed in high spirits (I was uncertain how that could be so, with everything he had related earlier) and his lively conversation, though I could not catch his words easily, improved even my mood. I noticed that he was very solicitous of Miss Bennet; making sure she was served the best my table had to offer, yet still shared his conversation with Miss Lucas on his other side and Mr. Gardiner and Miss Bingley who were across the table from him.

Miss Bennet seemed livelier once Edwin sat beside her, smiling more easily, her cheeks gaining a healthy pink hue. Edwin said something that caused that whole end of the table to laugh, including Miss Bennet. After that, something seemed to shift and Bingley went from only speaking with those on his other side, to also addressing Miss Bennet and Edwin.

Miss Bennet seemed to be speaking to Edwin above all others and I wondered if this was some indication that Miss Bennet might be ready to move on from any lasting feelings for Bingley now that she had finally seen him. Could she, perhaps, be feeling something toward Edwin? Then I chided myself for believing I could accurately understand the subtleties of the situation. I would need to check with someone more discerning than myself. Perhaps Miss Elizabeth?

I looked toward her then. She quirked her mouth slightly before quietly remarking, as the other part of the table laughed at something I had not heard, "I take it you did not invite Mr. Bingley and his family to dinner."

"No, certainly not. Bingley made it clear before that he did not want to dine while your sister was here. The credit for the grouping of our present company and this attempted matchmaking lies with my sister." I looked back in the direction of Edwin, Miss Bennet and Bingley. "I would say it is a failure."

"Perhaps not entirely," Miss Elizabeth remarked, also looking in their direction. "I have a feeling that seeing Mr. Bingley and realizing that whatever she hoped for will not be, is of some use to Jane. It may make it easier for her consider other suitors, to gain back her natural good temper. I begin to think she may compliment the Colonel well, though I am sure his parents could not approve such a pairing as we are far beneath that family. To them we must be little better than tradesmen and domestics."

"Edwin may be ready to make his own choices now," I responded and then lapsed into silence once more as I realized the decision he had made, was not favorable to her sister.

"Could he behave as he ought toward her?" Miss Elizabeth’s eyes were still fixed in the direction of her sister, my cousin and my friend.

"I believe he has taken some steps in that direction today," I answered. "But his circumstances . . .” I was not sure what I could or should say about them and settled for only stating “. . . they are in flux right now. Tell me, is it truly resolved that you shall all depart tomorrow?"

"Yes," Miss Elizabeth replied, nodding as well, "but you shall not transport us. My uncle had a letter from my father today."

“Can you tell me of it?”

Miss Elizabeth hesitated, looked around, with her eyes lingering on Mrs. Hurst who was just beyond her. I thought from this that perhaps she feared Mrs. Hurst would hear any exchange, although from what I could tell, Bingley’s older sister seemed to be attending more closely to her food than to the conversation around her.

Miss Elizabeth gave a little sigh before she told me, “I thought you would be able to talk to my uncle about it after dinner, however, I am not sure that you will have such an opportunity with so many guests present.”

That was a problem. I looked in the direction of Edwin. Was his present gregariousness the result of a successful discussion with Miss Vaughn or was he attempting to cheer himself after it had all gone wrong?

How were Edwin and I to speak with Mr. Gardiner about the Earl while I should be entertaining Bingley and Mr. Hurst? While I also wished to speak with Bingley about possibly helping with Miss Vaughn, that was a delicate matter that I could not bring up in front of the others, Furthermore, I would not even know if I should without finding out from Edwin whether he had spoken with Miss Vaughn and what she had decided. I felt a tightness in my chest as I recalled all the conversation from before.

Once I looked back in her direction Miss Elizabeth continued, "It must suffice to say my father wants me away from your influence while he seeks to determine my mind. Apparently, he thinks I am being practical rather than . . ."

I startled and felt myself flinch when I felt her hand touch my thigh. I heard my cutlery clatter against my plate as I dropped both fork and knife (I had been cutting into a piece of roast). I forced myself to suppress any further reaction besides picking up my silverware, but I did not return to cutting my meat just then, for then I felt her fingers press firmly into the side of my right thigh three times before they were gone.

I glanced down, looking for some confirmation of what I had felt, a pleasant warmth spreading through me as I recalled her touching of my person. However, with the tablecloth hanging down, I could not see her hand, which perhaps now lay demurely in her lap.

It came to me then that both of my hands had been occupied. I had not even thought to rest one hand between us a time or two during dinner, which was apparently why she had not squeezed my hand. Fortunately, most everyone else seemed distracted by the conversation around us though Mrs. Gardiner did glance in our direction along with Miss Lucas when I dropped my fork and knife.

I felt my face grow hot and set down my cutlery to sip a bit of wine. I forced myself to focus on Miss Elizabeth’s words rather than the sensations she had just caused me. I knew that when I went to bed that night there would be time to contemplate her action further. It was certainly very improper for her to touch me in such a place, rather than my hand, and I could not imagine that she would feel comfortable if I acted likewise. I understood her meaning, though, that her agreement to marry me was because she loved me and not for any other reason.

Miss Elizabeth continued, "Given the situation with Mr. Collins, I suppose it is only natural that my father thinks I might be being practical for the sake of my family. Additionally, he seems to not think very highly of your conduct both in Hertfordshire and Kent based on what he heard from others and from what he learned from the letter he received from Mr. Collins. However, it is hard to know if my father is serious or teasing from reading his written words alone. They were written in such a way that either interpretation is possible."

This made me think that in many ways I perceive other people's spoken words with similar difficulty to what she was expressing regarding her father's letter. People's faces can be as inscrutable to me as a piece of paper. Not always, not in every way. Simple expressions may help me interpret and give context to words, but often when I most wish to understand someone's meaning I am left perplexed.

"Which perspective do you think is more likely from your knowledge of your father?" I asked.

"I think he is making sport of me and you, but perhaps I am interpreting his words more based on my desire for his acceptance than based on how they actually read. My uncle thinks it is more likely that he is seriously concerned with your conduct."

"Does he usually play such games in his letters?"

"To me he does, but he does not typically do so with my uncle, however my father knew that my uncle would share this letter with me. This has left me quite confused. However, even if my father meant every word, I have every confidence that I can soon set the matter right."

Our conversation soon drifted off in another direction and I resolved to try my best just to enjoy Miss Elizabeth’s company while I still had the opportunity to do so. After dinner passed away and we were separating into our respective groups, I followed her with my eyes and tried once again to memorize her form.


	18. Meetings with the Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy meets with the men and discusses travel plans with Mr. Gardiner. Later, Darcy has a private meeting with Edwin to get an update about plans for Sylvia, and then meets with Bingley to ask for help from him.

Once we men were by ourselves, Bingley and Edwin began talking right away. While they had been acquainted for years, I was still astonished at how quickly they fell to discussing Miss Bennet.

Edwin said, "I am surprised that you decided not to pursue Miss Bennet."

Bingley replied, "At one time I had intentions . . ." He looked over towards Mr. Gardiner. "However, eventually I concluded that while she was everything amiable and lovely, that I did not know Miss Bennet at all. We certainly shared pleasant conversations and I enjoyed being her partner the two sets that we danced, one at an assembly and one at a ball. But our interactions stayed superficial. Reflecting back on the times when we were in company together, I have the sense that Miss Bennet never shared who she was beneath her serene exterior.”

Bingley explained, “The one time she tried to tell me something serious, she ended up insulting Darcy. I later learned those thoughts were not her own, but those of Miss Elizabeth. However tonight I saw something different from her when you were talking with her. A glimpse of her true nature, perhaps. _I_ never made her laugh."

Edwin nodded thoughtfully but said nothing.

"My niece is a very private person." Mr. Gardiner noted. "She has the weight of bearing all her mother's expectations for securing her family's future. It is too much for her, a responsibility that belongs to her father and not a young miss. It must grate on her, but she never gives any sign of it."

Edwin nodded and did not otherwise respond. Mr. Hurst drank my Scotch while the rest of us watched the crackling fire, lit because in the evening it had grown damp.

I knew I needed to arrange matters as best I could with this group, so while my preference would have been for continued silence, I began talking to Mr. Gardiner.

"Miss Elizabeth says she and your other guests are leaving on the morrow. Is that correct?"

"Yes, it is. That is how my brother Bennet has arranged the matter."

I thought carefully about Mr. Gardiner’s words. I believed he was saying it was not his decision, that he had deferred. It seemed to me that meant it was not his choice or preference. Perhaps I had his support?

"It is proper that a father arrange such matters," I responded, hoping to convey that I understood that it was not his decision.

"Traveling by post is never my preference," Mr. Gardiner admitted, giving a small shrug.

Could it be? Were we communicating somewhat indirectly? If traveling by post was not his preference did that mean he would prefer that they travel with me, but he had been overruled?

His next statement overthrew the understanding that I believed I had gleaned. "I plan to convey the ladies myself."

I digested that bit of news as he continued.

"However, I am loath to deprive Mrs. Gardiner of the carriage. When I travel myself I prefer to ride."

Mr. Gardiner looked at me and waited for my response. He was patient as I tried to figure out what he was saying. Finally, I believed I had the solution. With half hope and half fear, I resolved to answer what I believe was his unasked question.

"Georgiana and I plan to leave for Netherfield tomorrow as Bingley has so kindly consented to my sublease."

I delayed continuing by looking toward Bingley, waiting for him to meet my gaze, and then giving him a nod before saying, "I thank you, my friend."

"I was happy to do so, Darcy," he acknowledged.

Then I turned back toward Mr. Gardiner, praying that I had correctly understood him.

"I, like you, prefer to ride. There is plenty of room for the ladies in my carriage, and we shall have a further carriage for our servants and additional baggage, if you and your party would like to accompany us."

"I would be delighted," Mr. Gardiner responded. He then gave me a nod, that I thought might just be saying, "Well done."

We arranged that my carriages would arrive at his house by eleven the following day. Mr. Gardiner had explained that, as there was no time to send word of the change in travel plans to Mr. Bennet, we should endeavor to arrive before the late post carriage at the scheduled meeting place, the George Inn. Mr. Gardiner did not want anyone worried when the post carriage arrived, and the ladies were not onboard.

He explained, “Mr. Bennet is likely to be cross enough as it is that we have altered the ladies’ travel plans. Please allow my niece time to address matters with her father and do not call on her at Longbourn before she gives you leave to do so. If you attend the service on Sunday, hopefully she will be able to converse with you then and give you some idea of when your call would be appropriate.”

Once the arrangements for our departure were finalized, I discussed with Mr. Gardiner that Edwin and I needed to call on him on the morrow to discuss additional business with him and we decided on a time at which we could meet with him at his residence for that purpose.

"Shall we need to talk later this evening?” I asked Edwin. He nodded in reply.

Then I asked, “After that, shall I need to speak with Bingley also?" He nodded once again, so I arranged with Bingley that he would stay after the rest of his family departed for the evening. I thought his expression might mean he was curious, but if he was, he did not ask why.

We then rejoined the ladies, and I had what should have been a relaxing hour as the ladies entertained us with their performances on the piano forte. However, I was distracted, and the music did little to soothe my worries. But I dare to think I used the time well.

While Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst played a duet and Hurst napped, I took that opportunity to have a few quiet words with Miss Elizabeth. I had not wanted to be too obvious about the matter as the Hursts and Miss Bingley did not know of our engagement (although undoubtedly, they might expect it to be a possibility). I held Miss Elizabeth's hand and told her, "I am so glad that your uncle is permitting us to escort you."

Miss Elizabeth smiled and replied, "Ah, so that was decided betwixt you. I am glad. I would have been missing you so much otherwise, but I still think you should allow me address certain matters with my father before you come a calling afterwards."

I said nothing, uncertain as to whether I should agree or not.

When Miss Bingley and Mr. and Mrs. Hurst were departing for the evening, leaving Bingley behind as we had arranged, Miss Bingley paused by me, touched my forearm through my coat and said, “It is to be Miss Elizabeth then, is it?”

I considered prevaricating, pretending I did not understand, but then she removed that option by adding, “ . . . that you will take to wife?”

I responded with a simple nod.

Miss Bingley responded, “I would have made you a fine wife.”

“Yes, quite,” I agreed. And, indeed, although I had only considered Miss Bingley for that role in a vague way, only pondered it because she was familiar, kind to me and Bingley’s sister, I could imagine how she would have tried to ease my way, enjoyed the prestige of the Darcy name. But I could not have given her what she deserved.

Miss Bingley swallowed, offered me a tight smile that seemed half grimace and then she inclined her head. “I wish you both every happiness,” she said, but she looked at me alone. Her face smoothed as she moved away from me and linked arms with her sister. When they exited, she had her head held high, her auburn hair as artfully arranged as ever. I hoped she was not sad.

When all were gone besides Bingley and Edwin, I arranged for Bingley to wait in my study while I talked with Edwin in my library. As is the rule in my homes, no servants enter into these rooms without my express permission. Even the time when cleaning will be done, is strictly constrained. I feel much more at ease when my privacy is safeguarded, and I was glad for these safeguards tonight.

Edwin and I entered the library with me having very little expectations of what he would say but hoping that he would tell me that he had resolved to give Miss Vaughn up and that she had consented. For if that were not to be, and he did not need Bingley’s assistance, why would he want me to have Bingley remain?

Edwin’s good humor from dinner and afterward disappeared. He began pacing the length of the library, like a lion I had once seen at the Royal Menagerie at the Tower of London, which seemed to do nothing but stride back and forth in his barred cage.

I stood near the window and watched him. As the room is long and narrow, this meant that Edwin paced five or six and twenty steps in one direction (until he nearly reached the fireplace which I had ordered lit earlier), pivoted and then paced another five or six and twenty steps back, more or less (until he was nearly at the window seat). I could not help but count his steps for his shoes were loud upon the floor. In doing so, I noted it was sometimes, almost every third time, seven and twenty in one direction; twice it was four and twenty; and on one occasion twenty-eight steps that he took.

As the light from the window was fading, I made my way back along the side of one bookcase (so as not to be in his way) and then lit two candles with a taper from the flame in the fireplace and placed the candlesticks on the two small side tables which were near to the window. It is not unusual for me to tend to tasks such as these in the interest of remaining alone. Once that was done, I continued standing, waiting.

While Edwin’s pacing may have soothed him, the more he paced the more I fretted. After Edwin was completing his sixteenth round of pacing, I had more than enough. I snapped. "Just pick someplace to begin.” Hearing the harshness of my tone I justified, "I do not want Bingley to wait all night." I was exhausted myself, had not Edwin's nervous energy.

Edwin paused on step twenty-two and began addressing me. "As you know, when I left your home this afternoon, I planned to go see Sylvia and, indeed that was where I went without delay. I was afraid my courage would vanish, so I simply stormed into her chambers (her maid had not wanted to admit me).

“Sylvia seemed upset before I had spoken a single word. I was trying to find a way to begin when I noticed that she had a trunk out and it was already half-packed. I do not know what came over me, but immediately I thought the worst, assumed she was leaving me for the Earl. I became very angry, asked while shaking a fist in her direction, 'Why are you leaving? Have I not provided you with everything you could want?’ I knew even as I said all of this the irony of it; I had been planning on speaking to her about how to send her away, but I was angry when she seemed to plan to be departing on her own accord.”

Edwin paced back and forth three more times in a shorter path (only nine or ten steps forward and back each time) before continuing. I remained silent, imagining Miss Vaughn with her half-packed trunk, Edwin with his shaking fist.

I heard his voice crack as he continued, speaking while still pacing. "Sylvia began to shake and said, 'Please do not strike me!' Her fear somehow calmed me, and I sat myself down on our bed, the bed that only the night before we had lain in together, and then observing how my hand was still in a fist, unclenched it, smoothing it out against the counterpane.

“Seeing that I had calmed, Sylvia sat down herself also, next to me. Just so you know, Fitz,” Edwin paused his pacing to look at me as he said the next part, “I had never so much as raised a hand in threat to her before, and even then, having formed a fist, I had no intention of ever striking her. She must have seen the anger in me, though, and I doubt she had ever truly seen me that angry before.”

Then Edwin turned his back to me and grabbing at a bookcase shelf, spoke some more. “I asked, my mind filled with turmoil, all manner of horrid images in my head, 'Why are you leaving me for the Earl?’ for of course given my father’s words the previous night, that was all I could think about what she was doing. Before she could answer, I told her ‘Whatever he has promised you, you must not believe it. You would just be one of many, a mare in his 'stable' as he calls it.’

“Sylvia responded first by running her hands through my hair as she leaned my head against her breast before telling me, 'Oh, Eddie, I am not leaving you for him. You see, this morning the Earl came to see me and explained what my new arrangement would be if you did not fall in line and do his bidding. I just meant to get away in case you could not do as he wanted; before he could decide to come to collect me.'"

I had an image in my mind now, of the Earl grabbing Miss Vaughn by the arm and dragging her out of her house. Edwin resumed his pacing, but now it was a tight oval, seven steps around.

"Sylvia then went on to tell me all about the Earl’s visit to her house. She said when he first saw her, he declared ‘It has been far too long, Miss Vaughn. I had forgotten what a fine filly you are. My son has good taste, my same taste.’ She told me he licked his lips then, very deliberately, wanting her to see him do that, and then looked at her in a lascivious manner, his hands twitching as if he wished to undress her.”

Imagining the Earl doing such a thing was disturbing.

“Then he told her . . . he told her that it was _he_ who paid for her house, her clothes, everything I gave her, for it was _his_ allowance to me that paid for it all. He explained (and she said as he explained it was in a lecturing tone as one might explain something to a small child who had been told the same thing repeatedly and not yet learnt it) that this meant that she truly belonged to him. Then he told her, ‘I have set Edwin to accomplish certain things for me, but if he be not equal to the tasks, should he not succeed where he ought, I shall be displeased with him and turn him out, and then claim all that he _thinks_ belongs to him for myself.’

“Then the Earl walked right up to her, within inches of her, so close that she could feel the heat from his breath and smell his cigar and port. He told her ‘I hope my son has broken you in well, for I like a good ride,’ and then grabbed her forcefully and held her against him as he slid his hand along her back and then squeezed her rear. My poor Sylvia was terrified he would take further liberties then, and as she told me of this, she stopped stroking my hair and began trembling instead.”

In this recitation, I almost felt I could see everything that Miss Vaughn had experienced. I felt an anger toward my uncle, that he would deliberately terrify her so. But as Edwin continued to talk, my mind, traitor that it can be, began to transform the features of Miss Vaughn (which were now vague in my mind) into another form.

“I soon found myself to be the comforter rather than the comforted,” Edwin recounted. “Sylvia explained she feared any resistance on her part might serve to encourage rather than dissuade him. She did her best to show no emotion, to not stiffen overmuch, but told me her heart was racing in her chest. Fortunately, the Earl did nothing more then but to tell her, ‘See what you can to do to convince Edwin to do his duty and make sure he knows the price of failure.’ She said she was never so relieved as when he left."

Edwin paused, looking at me as if waiting for a response. I shook my head, trying to banish the image which had formed of Miss Elizabeth being threatened and opportuned by the Earl. I tried to say something sensible.

"It is quite shocking that the Earl would do such." I considered further as he waited. "He seems determined to convince you, through her. But Miss Vaughn choosing to leave as a response . . . I do not think the Earl anticipated she would do that."

“No, he overplayed his hand there. Although the Earl may think himself like to God within his bailiwick, he is a mere mortal, is not infallible. He must think Sylvia cowed, knows not her mettle.”

I nodded. Miss Elizabeth had mettle also.

Edwin stood a little taller. He questioned, “Is it wrong to have some pride that I chose a woman with such fortitude?” But then rather than let me answer, he continued, “I asked her what her plan was then. Sylvia arranged with her most trusted servant to sell possessions from her home including some jewelry I purchased her to raise enough money so she could flee.

“She explained, 'I did not want to do that to you, Eddie, you have been a good enough sort from what I understand of these things, taking me about town, making sure all my needs were met. I know you care for me in your own fashion, but I cannot bear to chance belonging to the Earl. Whatever he wants you to do must be dreadful if you will not willingly attempt it on your own. From his manner with me, I have the sense that even if you were successful, that that Earl might make another excuse to place me under his power. Eddie, I thought if I told you, you would not let me go, but I beg of you now, allow me to leave!'”

“Do you think she has the right of it?” I asked Edwin.

He shrugged, “I do not rightly know. I told her that from my most recent conversation with my father that I, too, feared for her safety, explained ‘These past couple of days my blinders have been removed and I see certain things I did not before all too well. When you first came to me, I could have aided you, should have aided you for the love you bore my sisters, instead of placing you under my protection. While I cannot wish it undone for your companionship has been all I desired, you cannot remain in this situation, not when it might cause you to come under my father’s power. But as I have taken so many choices away from you, what happens now must be up to you. If you want to leave on your own, it shall not be me who stops you.’

“I told her I had friends that could likely arrange for her removal to a location far from London. I asked if she might be willing to have a marriage arranged for her, explained that I believed a new name and residence would offer her the best protection."

Edwin sat down at the window seat, squeezed against the side and I sat beside him. It was a tight fit for two men, and we were shoulder to shoulder with one another. I inquired of Edwin, “What did Miss Vaughn decide?”

"She will go if we can arrange the matter expeditiously. Sylvia told me, 'I should like to have an ordinary life, marry and bear a child if I can. I do not know if I am able, if it is indeed the herbal concoctions which I took to prevent a child are the reason or if, perhaps I am simply barren, but it will be a relief to not feel the sickness that they bring. Do you think you can find me someone suitable who would take me to wife as despoiled as I am? If I go on my own my funds will be exhausted in perhaps two or three months. I will have no money for servants, must find employment soon, but have not wish to find it on my back again.'

“I then gave her to understand that I planned to settle money on her to help her attract an appropriate spouse, which seemed to give her some measure of relief. I then asked what she would want in a husband. Sylvia told me, ‘Someone kind, who will accept me; if possible, someone who can read and write well and can make intelligent conversation. I need no elegant home but wish for security. If he should have children, I want a husband who would still welcome children from me.’

“I expected her to say more, perhaps specify requirements for age, profession or appearance, but those were the sum of her requests in a potential husband. She agreed to try to give me a few days to plan but said she feared the Earl would be back soon and if I could not arrange things quickly that she might leave on her own but would find a way to leave word for me, so we could still carry out such a plan. I arranged that whoever came to collect her must use a special phrase for her to know that she was being retrieved at my behest and not that of the Earl."

Edwin told me the phrase and I said it once, twice, thrice to commit it to memory. I agreed it would do. Edwin then asked me to speak to Bingley about the matter and if he was willing to help us, that I do all I could to get things arranged quickly.

I noted then, “I am glad Miss Elizabeth is departing in the morning and doubly glad that I am going with her party.”

“Yes, it is well that you are both leaving. May I tell the Earl that I have dined with you and learned about her departure in the morning? Perhaps if I share this intelligence with him, he might believe I am faithfully trying to carry out his dictates. Then I can pretend surprise when I next try to call on you and learn that you have left, too.”

I gave him my permission and then with these matters resolved I bid him to go, but to meet me again in the morning so we could jointly call on Mr. Gardiner, explaining “I would have us both acquaint him with the threat the Earl poses to Miss Elizabeth and her family.”

I had already informed Georgiana, Mrs. Annesley, our servants, my housekeeper and my butler about our imminent departure for Netherfield. However, now it occurred to me, based upon my discussion with Edwin, that I needed to bid the staff to not discuss my departure. I hoped that this might delay the Earl learning of it.

So, although the hour was growing late, I summoned my housekeeper, Mrs. Grotburn, and my butler, Mr. Smith, to me in the library and instructed them, “I wish for none outside this house to know that Miss Darcy and I am leaving town tomorrow. Furthermore, once we have left, I wish you all to carry on as if I am still here.”

Mrs. Grotburn’s eyes widened, while Mr. Smith merely nodded, but neither asked any questions.

I explained, “If circumstances arise where it is imperative to admit my departure, you must say that Georgiana and I left for Pemberley.” 

Mrs. Grotburn, seemed surprised, so I asked rhetorically, "Cannot a man have privacy when courting?"

Mr. Smith whispered something to Mrs. Grotburn and as she was the louder of the two, I heard her whisper back, "It is Miss Elizabeth Bennet, of course; have you not heard she accepted him while in Kent?"

It was as I had expected, my man or Georgiana’s maid had told others in the house. I waited for her to finish and then said, "I would have you both remind the staff to refrain from gossip, but yes, Mrs. Grotburn is correct.”

They agreed to do as I bid. After I left instructions that Edwin be allowed to stay at my residence if he chose to during my absence, and that they could tell him when he called that I had left, I dismissed them and then walked three doors down to meet with Bingley.

My conversation with Bingley went well. I began by explaining, “I regret keeping you waiting so late, but I have an urgent need for your help on behalf of my cousin Edwin on a matter of some delicacy. Given what it is about, I shall understand if you need decline my request. But whether you will help or not, I must have your agreement to never tell another."

"So long as it involves not murder or treason, nor some other serious crime,” Bingley joked, and said as an aside, “I know you would not involve yourself in anything like that—I can certainly agree.”

"It involves safeguarding a woman and finding another situation for her."

"Ah, his mistress."

I wondered, had they talked about Miss Vaughn or did everyone just assume Edwin had a mistress? I resolved to get my mind back on the matter at hand.

"Yes, have I your word on this?"

"Certainly. How can I be of assistance?"

I told Bingley that Edwin needed to help "Miss S." settle in a new life and find a husband as soon as it might be arranged. While I made him to understand she was under a certain threat from the Earl, I did not disclose the specifics of it.

He must have known that I was concealing something, for he said, “The Earl has his fingers in many pies from what I have been told, and woe to those who are known to cross him.”

I told him, “I wish to put no target on the back of you and yours. You need not assist if you do not wish to do so.”

Bingley shook his head in negation. “I know you would not ask if it were not important.”

I did explain that there would be some funds settled on Miss S. as a dowry and I thought that perhaps with his extensive family in Scarborough he might be able to find a place for her. I told him the basic requirements she had for a husband.

Bingley had some questions for me and exhaled loudly when he learned she was of gentle birth and had been a governess. "I am relieved she is not just another silly girl with a pretty face or luscious figure. Women of that sort would pose a serious problem. I believe I can help you find someone for her; she could be an asset for a prudent man."

I was astonished, however, when he requested, “Have I your leave to discuss this matter with Caroline and perhaps also Louisa?” I had to give myself a few moments before I trusted myself to speak calmly.

"Would that really be wise, Bingley?"

"Caroline is planning to visit our family there soon; I believe she could be of assistance. While you may have disappointed her hopes, she will still wish to be of service to you, retain your friendship. She may not show it before those she seeks to impress, but she has a tender heart, especially towards those she feels need help or are being oppressed. I think she would be compassionate to Miss S."

I decided to defer to Bingley's superior knowledge of his sister and acquiesced, but explained “As I am leaving tomorrow, I hope to have everything set in motion before my departure.”

He told me, “I will speak to Caroline tonight and perhaps you and I can meet in the morning. I will bring Caroline with me if need be.”

I arranged for him to call on me at ten. I did not like having to set so many appointments at different locations in the morning but saw no way around it. Finally, I saw him out and was able to retire for the night.

I was so exhausted by all that had transpired that I went straight away to bed and fell asleep quickly, never even considering the matter of Miss Elizabeth touching my thigh.


	19. Prudence or Peril

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy informs Mr. Gardiner about the threat from the Earl. Then Darcy, Edwin, Bingley and Miss Bingley meet regarding what help can be offered to Miss S.

I awoke at about eight, which was later than I typically do, and felt there was not a moment to lose in organizing matters for our departure. While my man Jeffrey would see to any last-minute packing of my trunk, there was much more to be done. Between bathing, dressing, breakfasting, and instructing, I was fully occupied until Edwin arrived and had only moments to update him on the gist of my conversation with Bingley before we had to depart to meet with Mr. Gardiner.

At least the ride to Mr. Gardiner's residence was able to relax me slightly, with the rolling gait of the horse, the familiar feeling of swaying in the saddle and the sound of his hooves upon the street, and those of Edwin's mount. While I found myself glancing about when we passed the spot where we had seen the beggar children, I saw no sign of them.

When we arrived at his residence on Gracechurch Street, we were quickly escorted to Mr. Gardiner's study. I think Edwin and I were both disappointed that we did not even get so much as a glance at the ladies.

Mr. Gardiner was affable but was also quickly able to absorb what we were telling him about the threat posed by the Earl. He asked intelligent, discerning questions. We communicated quickly what we needed to. When I felt the salient points had all been addressed, I asked the question I believed I ought to, the one that my conscience dictated I ask.

While at the time I thought I asked it in all earnestness, I believe in reflecting on it, it was more pro forma, for I did not truly think he would withdraw his support for my suit. Still, in that moment, I remember dreading his possible reply.

I asked, "Given all these matters, Mr. Gardiner, to be prudent and thinking of the safety of Miss Elizabeth and her whole family, should I step aside and not pursue a marriage to your niece? While it is my dearest wish to have her as my wife, the surest way to keep the Earl from being a threat to her and her family, is to remove her from his sights."

It had been most difficult to ask such a question, to even entertain the slight risk of an affirmative answer, to perhaps lose Miss Elizabeth forever. While I was convinced that I would sacrifice her if it had to be done to ensure her safety, I did not think her safety truly required such a sacrifice. Still, I felt myself swaying slightly on my feet as I said the words, my stomach feeling as if I were on a ship (I had only been on board a ship twice and found it a most unpleasant experience, which I hoped never to have to repeat).

Mr. Gardiner did not answer right away and the anxiety which that created was almost more than I could bear especially after all the turmoil of the past few days. I could not help but make a repeating motion with my hand and wrist, tilting my hand forward while thrusting my fingers out and then pulling them back and in again, but it was not enough to soothe me. Worse still, Mr. Gardiner's attention seemed drawn to my hand's movement, but I had not the power to stop it.

Finally, he answered, "Mr. Darcy be at ease. All I have learned from my observations and those of my wife have assured me that you are a good choice for marrying my niece, not because of your wealth but because of your character and your obvious love for her. That you even have asked this question, confirms my assessment."

Then Mr. Gardiner said something that I will never forget; something that recalled again and again during the trials that were to come: "I do not believe those that are good should give up all that they hold dear only to try to avoid harm from those who are not."

This could only mean that he was not encouraging me to give her up! In my relief I felt my muscles, which I had not known I was holding tight, relax, my stomach calm somewhat.

I was so focused on those words, I had to struggle to attend to those he added next, "While I cannot speak for my brother Bennet, you have my support. I also do not think my niece would think these are grounds to go back upon her word. Instead, we must focus on mitigating this threat."

At this further confirmation that I had his support, that he thought the obstacles not insurmountable, my hand itself slowed down its movements and then I was able to still it by pressing it against my side. I thanked him for his counsel and support and then we left.

All I wanted to do was return to my room and rest, but it was not to be, for there was still the meeting with Bingley and then Georgiana and I would need to depart to retrieve our traveling companions and set off for Hertfordshire. And moreover, we had to make haste to not be late to meet Bingley.

Edwin and I reached my residence only moments before Bingley's carriage, before the dust from our horses had even begun to settle, or the servant that was to tend to them even had time to retrieve them. We waited as Bingley climbed out, but then rather than coming towards us, he turned back toward the carriage and helped his sister out.

"What is Miss Bingley doing here?" Edwin asked me.

I then recalled that I had not raised the possibility of her presence with him. "Bingley thinks she can help," I explained. "Is not Miss S.'s safety of paramount importance, by whatever means are best?"

The look on Edwin's face then made me think he did not agree, but he said nothing.

The four of us assembled in my study (for despite my efforts to excuse myself, Edwin and Bingley insisted I stay). I sent a servant for two extra chairs and we stood about until a servant returned with them.

Once the door was bolted, we sat in a rough half circle, with Miss Bingley across from me and next to her brother, while Edwin was to my right between Bingley and me. After some awkward pleasantries, Edwin asked, "Bingley, can you help Miss S.?"

Bingley responded, "My sister can, and far more ably than I."

Edwin wrinkled his brow, tightened his lips and then countered, "Is that really wise to have your sister embroiled in such a thing? Have you no regard for Miss Bingley's safety, no worry for her delicate sensibilities? Certain dangers would threaten any who assist, and Miss S. is not exactly . . . well proper company for an unmarried lady. Likely you have not explained about the things she should not know; I would not if she were my sister."

"Perhaps you may think I am unwise to involve her," Bingley responded, "but Caroline knows her own mind and the circumstances in which Miss S. finds herself in. If Caroline is willing to take such risks, and I dare say they will be minimal with the arrangements she has made, I will not gainsay her opinion that it can be done, and she is the best person to take on the responsibility. My sister can do what I cannot, travel with other women."

Still ignoring Miss Bingley, Edwin said, "Tell me what the plan is."

"I will not," Bingley said in his usual pleasant manner. "Tis not my place, when the plan and its execution lie entirely with my sister."

"I can hardly talk to _her_ about such things," Edwin remarked, glancing at Miss Bingley and then crossing his arms.

"Then we are at an impasse," Bingley calmly explained, "for I cannot talk about that which I know not, and I know only the broad strokes."

While this discussion was taking place, at first Miss Bingley sat sedately, her ankles delicately crossed, and remained waiting. Perhaps because Bingley and Edwin were so focused on their conversation, they did not notice as this changed. Miss Bingley gritted her teeth, uncrossed her ankles, leaned forward while also pulling her shoulders back and her eyelids narrowed. I tried to analyze what emotion everything she did conveyed. I was uncertain, but I was certain that whatever it might be, it was a strong one.

"Perhaps I should find someone else to aid Miss S.," Edwin responded. "Tis wrong to put it on your sister."

I thought it was odd that his honor would intrude at such a moment.

Miss Bingley's face gradual reddened with some emotion as this discussion was taking place and I felt that something would happen soon. However, even I was surprised when she threw up her hands, lept up from her chair, strode the diagonal path needed to be right before my cousin and while leaning toward him and gesturing with a pointed finger declared, "Who are you to me that you would seek to guard me from the realities of life? I am not a mere ornament, incapable of doing what must be done. Do not demean me so by adjudging that I cannot even speak with one who is fallen, that my delicate feminine sensibilities will not allow it. It is _my_ work which shall find this Miss S. an appropriate situation. Will you truly throw her to the wolves rather than accept my aid?"

Edwin said nothing as Miss Bingley berated him. I found her glorious in her anger, infinitely more fascinating than I had before and while nothing could have turned my heart from Miss Elizabeth, I gained a newfound respect for Miss Bingley. But she was not yet through.

"I understand the dark underbelly of how things are, where maidens of pedigree and means remain virtuous until marriage, while other lowly women are bound to satisfy men's needs. She is not the first woman I have aided to escape from a man's depravities and there will be more after I help after her, God willing. For as long as men are beasts and brutes, women will suffer."

Miss Bingley harrumphed and then seated herself back down. However, she still leaned forward. It came to me that she was like to a coiled spring, ready to burst forth again if need be. She asked in a softer tone, "Will you let me aid her or not?"

Edwin did not immediately answer her. Instead, he turned back toward Bingley and asked, "Does your sister have your full confidence? Are you truly willing to have her involved in this thing? Does she even know that in removing Miss S. that she is defying the Earl of Matlock?"

Bingley gave his sister a single glance. I noted that her teeth were gritted once again. He looked back at Edwin and declared, "Yes, to all."

Edwin remarked, "I suppose we can discuss the matter." He looked over at Miss Bingley and then asked her, "What is your plan?"

"That depends. There are some salient points that must be clarified. I need to know, Charles could not tell me, is Miss S. with child? Even in such a situation I might be able to find her someone if she is not too far along, but I need an answer."

Edwin's and Bingley's faces grew pink and I wager mine matched theirs. Edwin answered, "She is not."

"Are you certain? Many women in such a profession seek to conceal such things as long as they may, may wish to go before their disgrace is writ large upon their bodies."

"Yes, I am," Edwin answered while staring at the wall. "She would have told me if she were, and she had her courses last week."

"Well, that makes it much easier." Miss Bingley nodded.

"Is she humble enough to act the part of a maid or a companion? I understand that marriage for her is the ultimate goal, but she will have to travel under some guise, may need to take employment for a time, although hopefully not forever as I understand she is gently bred."

"I believe so," Edwin answered, no longer staring at the wall, but not yet looking at Miss Bingley either.

"So, you think it will work?" Bingley asked his sister.

"Yes, I am certain," Miss Bingley responded. "I simply need her address and the phrase of safety that Charles mentioned had been arranged. Leave the rest to me."

"How shall you get her away without risking yourself? Where will you take her?" Edwin questioned.

"Never you mind," Caroline replied, "Charles approves and if you trust him you can trust me, too. From what I understand, either of you may be under observation, Miss S. as well. Colonel Fitzwilliam _do not_ visit her again. Play the part of dutiful son, keep your father off balance. When the timing is right, Charles will tell you what to do. The only thing I still need to know is what amount will be settled on her then."

I was curious myself, whether Edwin might have decided to hold back some of the funds he had pledged the night before, thought better of beggaring himself.

First, Edwin asked, "Shall you wish some renumeration for the risks you take?"

The look she gave him then . . . I was just glad to not be on the receiving end of it. "No, I shant. I act because it needs to be done. Do not attempt to pay me like your whore."

Then, perhaps wishing to soften what she just said, Miss Bingley clarified "Of course, I would hope you would continue to recognize me at any society events at which we both might be present, few though those may be now. I do not want your guilt from my possession of your dirty secret to result in you cutting me."

"I understand," Edwin responded. "Please know that I did not intend any insult. Then, as there is nothing to diminish what I can give her, it shall be five thousand pounds."

Miss Bingley smiled brightly. "That is a much more generous amount than I anticipated; you must hold her in genuine affection to settle such funds on her. I am glad. You just might make a credible husband for someone at some point. Perhaps Miss Bennet?"

Edwin's lips twitched up a bit before he flattened them out. "I shall not have the funds to support a wife for some time," he told her.

Miss Bingley told Edwin, "Be that as it may, some things are worth waiting for even if in the end they do not come to pass." She flicked her eyes in my direction and then looked back at him. "Do not worry; Miss Bennet shall never learn of Miss S. from me."

"Is it all settled then?" I asked Edwin.

Edwin looked back at me. He shrugged and I shrugged back. Although I had my doubts, ultimately, I did trust Bingley and he apparently trusted his sister and it was Edwin's decision to make. Edwin removed a piece of paper from his pocket, one which I imagine had all the pertinent information on it and held it out toward Bingley.

Bingley opened his hand to receive it, but before it reached his fingers, Miss Bingley lept up once again and snatched it from Edwin's hand. She unfolded it, glanced at the sheet and apparently satisfied, folded it up and placed it in her reticule.

"Thank you for trusting me." Miss Bingley said. She stood up, Bingley stood up also and after quick adieus they left.

Edwin lingered for a few more moments. He said, "It is done then. I hope this was the right decision. That Miss Bingley, she was truly magnificent and not the vapid female I took her for before. Why, she seemed to have fortitude nearly equal to a man! I believe she can do as she has promised."

While I agreed with his assessment of Miss Bingley, I felt a momentary flutter of worry. Were we making a mistake in entrusting Miss Vaughn to Miss Bingley? Did Miss Bingley truly have the wherewithal to keep Miss Vaughn safe from the machinations of the Earl? Were we putting the two women in peril, risking Miss Bingley to safeguard Miss Vaughn?

I was almost certain I was fretting over nothing, but I was like a dog at a bone. However, I said none of this to Edwin. Why should I add to his worries?

Edwin wished me luck with Mr. Bennet and then he left as well.

Glancing at the clock in my study, I saw I had only half an hour before our scheduled departure. There was not time to reflect further now while there was still work to be done. I quickly added to the letter for Lady Catherine. Then I penned a quick letter to my uncle the judge, explaining I was leaving town but that I wished to call on him when I was next in town on a matter of some importance. Then I sent these letters off.

I took with me the letters with instructions for my staff at Pemberley for placement in my trunk; I would need to rework them so that only Mrs. Reynolds knew my true location. Although I did not doubt that the Earl would soon enough learn where I was once he knew I was gone, I had no wish to make it easier for him.

I finished my tasks only a few minutes before our scheduled departure and barely had time to refresh myself. Still, afterwards, I took a minute to take out the yellow ribbon and gently stroke it. I addressed the ribbon as if it were Miss Elizabeth. I told it, "You are worth every effort, my love." I then tucked it safely away, my handkerchief atop it.

All that remained then was for our traveling party to gain the carriages and horses so that we could travel to the Gardiners' home and collect the ladies and Mr. Gardiner. Never before had I thought that a long ride along the road would be the most restful part of my day. I looked forward to some exercise and not having to think on anything but directing my steed. I was hopeful that with Mr. Gardiner's support Mr. Bennet would countenance my suit and soon I would be able to bring my new bride home to Pemberley.


	20. Interlude 1, Part 2: Lady Anne: To Die is Gain?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second part of Lady Anne's Interlude covers an incident from Darcy's childhood from his mother's POV, when he was under the care of the horrible Governess Hayes. The interlude ends with Lady Anne reflecting on her impending death and what it will mean for her children.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone reading here gets to benefit as based on all the lovely reviews on FF, as I am rewarding everyone with another chapter. Don't be shy here, I want to hear from you.
> 
> This is the second part of Lady Anne’s interlude. It touches on some of what Darcy thought about in VMC I, in the chapter: A Time for Reflection. The Bible references regarding heavenly bodies are in 1st Corinthians 15 generally and the bit about the mustard seed is from Matthew 17:20. This interlude is a tear jerker, so be prepared.
> 
> I will post again on Saturday when we will be back to our main story. What will happen when they all arrive in Hertfordshire?

It was after a second visit with my brother, the Earl of Matlock, and his family that George hired Governess Hayes upon Dudley’s advice without any attempt to consult with me. Then George insisted, “Now that we have Governess Hayes, things will be well with Fitzwilliam and you should resume your duties as the lady of the estate. Mothers are too soft on their children, and Fitzwilliam needs firm guidance.”

I hated to leave my poor Fitz in Governess Hayes’s care for she seemed to have none of the feeling or warmth of Nurse Storey. Instead, she had a sort of self-righteousness about her, that she knew what needed to be done with my son better than those who have known him from the cradle.

While I wanted to spend the sort of time in the nursery that I always had, George suddenly was finding many tasks for me to do. He seemed to be attempting to ensure that I was occupied from morning until night. He volunteered me to set up a charity auction to fundraise for the local parish workhouse. I was to talk to all the gentry wives, the merchant wives too, any woman whose family might have a little extra, get them to donate something that could be sold. 

George asked me to redecorate the chambers for his sister and her husband, the Skeffingtons, who would soon be living at Pemberley. Then, after that was finished and they arrived, he found many other tasks for me to do relative to them. Among them was to take Mrs. Skeffington dress shopping and then reintroduce her to all the local families. For the most part I abhor shopping and making calls, unless I have a fondness for the particular people involved, but I did as he bid.

I wanted to please George, he was my husband, my love. But I had not unlimited patience with him, and would complain, “I need more time with Fitzwilliam. It is not right that Nanny Storey is gone and for him to almost never see his mother now. It was not right that all of his worms and snakes were taken away.”

George’s response usually encompassed comments of this sort: “Governess Hayes has it well in hand. Fitzwilliam is not a little boy anymore. You were coddling him over-much. He needs to attend to his studies, learn the fundamentals to be ready for a tutor and later school. He will have many responsibilities as the future master of Pemberley, with so many dependent upon his care. We cannot waste this time with games and frivolous activities. He must be ready when I am gone.”

Every night after dinner, no matter how exhausted I was from all the tasks of the day, I always visited my son. He had been such a happy child, but as the days and weeks went by, the light seemed to be fading from his eyes. He was getting a sort of look on his face that reminded me of street children. Often, I had trouble falling asleep at night as I thought about him.

Sometimes I imagined just scooping Fitzwilliam up into my arms and running away with him, conveying us away in my phaeton (for I could not trust a coachman to take me away from Pemberley without my husband’s permission), until I could rent a coach. I would go live in my sister Catherine’s dower house. By this time, her husband Lewis was dead, and I was certain she would let me live there.

In my imaginings, Fitz and I would be happy with little. I would knit, he would play with the wool, we would sing songs together and I would teach him skills bit by bit, as I had when we had Nurse Storey. Perhaps I might even persuade Nurse Storey to come and live with us. I was so earnest in such thoughts that I even saved most of my pin money so that I would be prepared if the time ever came when I knew I had to leave.

However, nothing had yet pushed me to the point where I might take such drastic action. I could not yet countenance committing such a great evil against my husband. I had vowed to love, honor and obey George and he was convinced he was right as to how Fitz should be managed, and I was just a woman. While he might be wrong, he was doing what he earnestly believed was best and a son always belonged to the father above the mother.

There was nothing an honorable wife could do but to bend to her husband’s wishes and try to persuade him to soften his dictates where she could. And if my displeasure with the situation meant that I did not particularly welcome him to my bed when he came through the adjoining door from his chambers, I never tried to deny him any of his rights as my husband either.

One day, however, the tentative peace I found in these horrible circumstances was overthrown when the junior nursery maid, Hannah, burst into the parlor when I was entertaining guests with Matilda Skeffington. For of course, given all the calls my husband hectored me to make, we were called on in return.

Hannah said, her eyes wild, her face flushed and breathing a little heavily, as if she had just been running and slowed shortly before gaining the room, “Pardon me, Lady Anne, but you are needed in the nursery.”

I made my apologies and quickly hurried away with her. I felt a sort of delicious wickedness to be leaving our guests, but also a deep worry in the pit of my stomach. I knew that George had ordered the maids to never disturb me, to let Governess Hayes work her methods.

I asked as we quickly walked, “Whatever is the matter, Hannah?”

“I told her it was wrong, Madam. But she will not listen, says she is the governess while I am just a maid (and a young one at that) and should not contradict my betters.”

“What, Hannah? Whatever has been occurring? What is Governess Hayes doing wrong? Has she harmed my Fitz?”

“The poor child. I have been hurting for him these past few days, but I was worried about losing my position and you know that I need my wages to help support my brothers and sisters, since my father’s injury. Governess Hayes always says we are to do as she says, or we will be turned out without references. But today it is too much.

“These past few days Governess Hayes decided that she would withhold some of his food until young Master Darcy properly obeys her, but some of what she is asking him to do . . .” Hannah wrung her hands as I waited for her to continue. “I do not know if _he_ even understands what _she_ wants from him. It has been very little for days and I know he must be hungry. But today, today she said he would not eat at all until he obeyed.”

I could not believe what I was hearing. I asked, as I hurried faster, “Why ever did you not tell me of this before?” I had thought Hannah and I to be compatriots of a sort, that her loyalty was first with me as I had arranged for her employment when four years ago as the eldest child (although only twelve), she was obliged to go into service, and I found her a place in the nursery rather than in the kitchen scullery. It was she who slipped a piece of string to Fitz each night and retrieved it each morning.

“I should have, Madam, I wanted to. Two nights ago, when Master Darcy asked you for a biscuit and Governess Hayes said he should not have one, that he had already had them after dinner . . . she was lying.”

I recalled the conversation with my son. I had gone to see him as usual after dinner, but something had felt off. When he saw me before he had even said “Mama” he asked (for it was still his way of asking then, to say what he wished for by saying it as he wished you to say it), “Fitz want a biscuit?” Sometimes when he asked for a biscuit, he really wanted a sweet, but sometimes when he asked for a biscuit, he was simply asking to eat.

I recalled Governess Hayes quickly responding, her stern voice turning my almost voiced “yes” into a “no.” My boy had been trying to tell me and I had denied him. I felt a mighty guilt then, in recalling this conversation now knowing the truth, and tears started falling from my eyes, a sudden torrent that would not be denied.

“Madam, it is not your fault,” Hannah reassured me, going so far as to touch my arm for a moment before remembering herself. “It is us that have all failed you, failed him. I felt I could not gainsay what she said, for you see, Governess Hayes says that she has the master’s trust and you come to the nursery so much less than before (and I know you love your son, that it is the master keeping you away) so it must be true. I talked to the other nursery maid and she had seen things that I had not, but we both feared telling you. But even _he_ cannot have approved this. It is awful!”

“What has happened now, to move you to fetch me and tell me, when you would not before?” I asked, tears still spilling down my cheeks.

“Today the young master has been howling all morning and crying, although I do not know how he can have tears left on account of not having had much to drink yesterday and nothing at all today. You would think it would have made him grow weak, but somehow it has made him fiercer. His tantrum was tremendous; I have never seen its like. He threw every loose item in the nursery, books, the chair, his shoes. She came at him with the rope and commenced to swing it, but she only got in a lick or two before the young master grabbed at it and somehow managed to tear it from her grasp and began swinging it at her. She fled out the nursery room then.”

I could well imagine the scene. I had a sudden wish to take the rope from Fitz and use it on Governess Storey. How dare she starve and beat my child!

But Hannah was not done with her accounting. “She ordered me out, locked the door and left him alone inside. You have the key, yes, Madam?”

I nodded. I kept the key to the nursery and the nursery wardrobe, along with the key to the tea chest, around my neck on a chain, tucked away. Hannah kept walking with me and continued to tell me all that occurred.

“Governess Hayes told me I must give the young master no attention for his poor behavior. Your son, he was still crying and screaming, in a rage, when she declared she was going to her chambers and I could fetch her when he quieted himself, that maybe he would have learnt his lesson by then and would be ready to obey. I knew then that this had to stop, even if my position was forfeit. I waited until she was gone and then came to fetch you right away.”

When she finally fell silent, I told her, “Hannah, I would sooner leave this house than continue to let that woman conduct herself in such a manner. Your employment shall never be cut for protecting my son. Now go and fetch some proper food for Fitzwilliam.”

When I reached the nursery room door, I paused for a moment to swipe at my tears with my sleeve and give a mighty sniff to keep my nose dry, as I prepared myself for what I might find inside. I heard not a sound from within, but the door was heavy and well fitted. I imagined all sorts of scenarios. What if Fitz had hurt himself in his frenzy? What if he was beyond reason now and did not even recognize me? I reminded myself to be calm.

I unlocked the door and walked inside. The nursery was strewn with damaged books and pieces of a broken chair, along with little bits of other things. The table was overturned, a pillow ripped and feathers from it were strewn across everything. But it was quiet.

I found Fitz crouched in a corner between the far side of the wardrobe and the wall, hiding under a blanket I had knitted him, a frayed edge of the rope peeking out from beneath it. Whether he was using it to soothe himself or still bearing it as a weapon, I could not tell.

I was not sure how to approach him. I did not want to scare him. I called, “Fitz, Fitz,” but he made no response. I wondered if he had become exhausted and fallen asleep under the blanket.

I thought of singing him a lullaby, but my throat could not seem to sing at all. It was too tight and the little I got out sounded wrong. But then unbidden, words came forth instead as I began reciting a rhyme, “The Cambrick Shirt,” that I had long ago memorized from _Gammar Gurton’s Garland_. It was Fitzwilliam’s favorite when he first began to speak, I think because there was so much repetition:

_Can you make me a cambrick shirt,_

_Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,_

_Without any seam or needle work?_

_And you shall be a true lover of mine._

I slowly approached him as I recited. I wanted to touch him, but more than that I wanted to take him in my arms and hold him, but I held back. I kept reciting and as it went on, I began to believe I could hear him, perhaps if it were not my fancy, quietly reciting with me the repeated lines: “Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,” and “And you shall be a true lover of mine” with his voice gradually becoming louder. And then it seemed to me he was reciting all the words along with me. When I was almost at the end of the rhyme, he lifted an edge of the blanket and peered out at me, reciting along:

_When you have done and finish'd your work,_

_Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,_

_Then come to me for your cambrick shirt._

_And you shall be a true lover of mine._

When the rhyme was complete, he said “Mama,” giving me a half smile rather than the grins I was used to receiving.

I came to him then, sat on the floor beside him, and he crawled up in my lap despite him being a large, seven-year-old boy, the blanket cast aside. I held him close and stroked his dark head, which was still damp with sweat, his hair so like his father’s but still silkier than it would be when he became a man.

I grabbed the blanket and wiped his face clean of snot and dried tears with a corner of it, for I had no handkerchief. Then I used another corner of the blanket to tend to me, before discarding it. When I was done, Fitz leaned his head into my neck, his hands fingering my hair which was pinned up.

I could feel Fitzwilliam trembling in my arms, but he seemed cried out, to have the calm of having made it to the other side. He sat up a little and asked me, “Cambrick shirt?” in a hopeful sort of tone, so we began reciting it together again. I rubbed his shoulder, which seemed bonier than I remembered (although he had always been one of the leaner sorts of boys) and then I moved my hand around to begin rubbing his back in a way that I knew he liked.

As we recited “Now you have ask’d me questions three” my hand felt the bump of each vertebrae, the plane of each rib and I had trouble continuing the rhyme. I felt a mounting anger within me as I felt how thin he was, but I also felt a growing helplessness.

If it had been up to me, that woman would have never tended to Fitz, or if she had, she would have been gone after the first day. But I doubted even now that I could convince my husband of her cruelty or get him to send Governess Hayes on her way. 

I imagined truly fleeing with Fitzwilliam then, but now that it was something more than a half-planned fancy, I imagined what my husband would do when he realized we were gone. George was not the sort to let his wife and heir just disappear. His anger would burn hot and he would do all he could to locate us, would certainly find us at Rosings very quickly.

I imagined my husband arriving and taking Fitz away, pulling him out of my arms by force. It would be his right.

George would be so angry with me that perhaps I might be shunted off to one of his other properties and he would never let me live with him and Fitz again. And then what would become of my son without his mother? I could never risk that.

Although I imagined hiding elsewhere, where we could never be found, that was not truly something I could do. For how would I support us? How could I keep Fitz safe? The very idea of it . . . it was impossible.

I put aside the notion of running away then and, instead, focused all my attention on ministering to my son. I rubbed his back over and over. And as I rubbed, back and forth, his trembling lessened until it was finally gone. I told him in a pause between recitations, speaking as others might have spoken to a much younger child, “Mama loves you, Fitz.”

Hannah returned with a tray full of food. By now we had likely recited “The Cambrick Shirt,” half a dozen times or more but still, we continued.

Hannah set the tray down on the floor while she tried to right the table which, when she attempted to set it upon its legs, immediately listed to one corner, revealing that a leg was split off from it, although still nominally attached to the top. She gathered up many books and parts of books until she could prop that corner of the table up. I watched as she did this.

I slowed my hand although I did not cease to rub or stop our recitations until she had the table ready with his food. Then I asked Fitzwilliam, first using the language Nurse Storey and I wanted him to speak, and then his own, “Would you like to eat? Fitz want a biscuit?”

“Biscuit, biscuit, Fitz want a biscuit,” he proclaimed, but he remained in my lap. I gently slid him to the side of me, so I could get up, but even as I rose, he still clung to me with one hand, the rope still firmly grasped in the other. I walked slowly over to the table. He did not let go of me until he saw the food. Then he handed me the rope before facing the table again.

Fitzwilliam began to reach toward the food, but then apparently thought the better of it and drew his hands back. He gripped the edge of the table instead. Then he said, “No Fitz, bad Fitz.”

I corrected, “Yes Fitz, good Fitz. Here is food for you my darling boy.”

I picked up the pitcher filled with milk and poured him a half-filled glass and set it down near the edge of the table, near his hands. He looked at the milk, then he looked at me, and then back to the milk again.

When he made no move to pick it up, I picked it up instead and held it to his lips (although he had mastered drinking many years before). He took a sip and then grasped the glass himself. He guzzled it down in a rush, drinking so quickly that large drips of milk ran down the sides of his mouth.

Then he reached for the apple (which was the next closest item) and ate the whole thing with big crunches, only halting when the core was but a thin spindle. The roll was devoured next but then before he had even touched the meat he asked for, “More drink for Fitz, more milk.”

I poured more milk and he downed two more glasses, but I did not pour him any more after that, for I feared it might make him sick to drink so much so quickly. Even so, the pitcher was more than half empty. It hurt me to see how thirsty my boy had been.

I coaxed him to eat his meat, slicing a bite and holding it out to him on a fork. He took the piece off the fork but made no move to take another bite, told me “Done” so I let it be. I told Hannah, “Try to see if you can get him to eat more; I must speak to the Master.”

While I did not want to leave Fitz, I needed to see if there was any way I might convince George to dismiss Governess Hayes. However, when I told him, “Fitz, I must go, but I will come back soon,” he screamed “Mama, mama, mama no go” as he might have when he was a much younger boy, and grabbed me around the legs, trying to hold me in place.

I could not leave him, so I sat back on the floor again and he crawled back into my lap. Instead, I bid “Hannah, you must go and fetch Mr. Darcy.”

Hannah returned sometime later without George, explaining “The master is away for the day on estate business.” I had forgotten that such were his plans for that day if I had ever known. But without George to enforce my schedule, I stayed with my son all that day. It was like one of our days of yore save for the fact that he hardly left my side. At five, I made sure a good dinner was brought to him and watched while he ate it all, including three sugar biscuits.

In the evening, when it was time for our formal dinner, George finally arrived at the nursery, Governess Hayes by his side. I could tell by the tightness of his jaw and the glare he sent towards me, that she had spoken to him and made him see things her way and he was already set against me.

George told me, having no care for the fact that he was speaking to me before the servants, “Mrs. Darcy, it was poorly done.” As normally he addressed me as Lady Anne before the servants, his choice of words was meant to diminish me, to emphasize that I was his to control. “You should not have gainsaid Governess Hayes’s decree and given into Fitz. He is only learning that if he throws a tantrum that he gets his way. It may take weeks for Governess Hayes to gain back the progress she has made.”

He held out his hand and said, “Come away now Anne; it is time for us to dress for dinner.”

I felt the deep humiliation of being talked down to before the servants, but as he had chosen the venue, I had no intention of playing the meek and deferring wife as I normally would have. For a righteous anger burned in my chest, the flames continually stoked when I thought about what had been done to my son. And now my husband was condoning it?

I rose to my feet, Fitz still firmly affixed to my side, and gave my husband the iciest glare I could. “I shall not let Governess Hayes, or anyone, starve and whip my son. He is a growing boy. Food and drink will never be withheld from him again. I am staying here until she is dismissed.”

George turned to look at Governess Hayes and I could tell that she had not truly told him everything. She defended, “He had less than before, but it was working for his willful stubbornness was abating. We must tame the beast within him, should you wish for him to become a proper man.”

Again, George held out his hand to me, now speaking in a softer tone, “Anne, come away and we can discuss the matter later.” Perhaps then he was recalling how unseemly it was to speak of anything of import before the servants.

“I shall not leave him now and with her!” I yelled, feeling a roaring in my ears even as I fought for control. I had no wish for him to dismiss my concerns as those of a hysterical woman.

George sighed and said, “Governess Hayes, perhaps it would be best if Hannah took care of Fitz for the night. Come see me in my office at 9 tomorrow.” I had a hope that he meant to dismiss her, but his next words belied that hope for he clarified, “we will discuss certain modifications to your methods.”

In the end, Governess Hayes stayed in George’s employ and there was nothing I could do. It was one of the very worst times in my life, to feel so helpless. I kept working upon George, to try to make him change his mind, but he was like a mule, would not be moved.

In the end, I had to wait her out, eventually persuading George that Fitz was old enough for a tutor and arrange that the proper tutor was found. I located the man myself with Nurse Storey’s help, made sure he was among the first to respond to the advertisement, would know what to say to secure the position. And when George hired Mr. Stowbaugh and sent Governess Hayes on her way, I felt like leaping for joy, for he was everything good and kind and I knew my Fitz would be treated properly.

It took me a long time to understand that everything George did regarding Fitz and Governess Hayes he did out of fear; fear that Fitzwilliam would never be capable without her methods; fear that if he was too soft, he was doing a disfavor to his son and to all who depend upon him. He believed that Fitz could be molded and shaped, remade better and if he did not do everything he could, that he would be failing everyone, even me. He could not see how his actions were the problem, made things worse.

Eventually I had to forgive my husband for how he had hurt us, even if he never asked for my forgiveness, never admitted he was wrong. But I could not do that for some time. Still, things were much easier between us and what I had endured for duty before, I now was able to do with joy again for our mutual delight.

I was not so very surprised then, that I became with child, but it was difficult to hope that at the end of it I would hold a living child in my arms. My most recent child before that, who was born after a prolonged and painful labor when Fitzwilliam was about five, had not lived to take a breath when finally plucked from my body by a forceps man.

Georgiana was beloved by us all and we took such delight in her. She was an easy child who did everything by the time she ought, who spoke better at three than Fitz had at seven years of age, and early on showed an interest in learning to play the piano forte, but not the sort of singlemindedness that Fitz always showed about the things he liked best.

Each time she triumphed in learning something that had been a struggle for her brother to master, I felt a pain that it could not be so easy for Fitz. It was easier be Georgiana’s mother, to have the sort of relationship a mother should have with a child, as she always wished to be with me, to share things with me, to please me, while I had to struggle to be a part of my son’s world with whatever his fascinations were at the time.

I also ached for my son when I saw how easy George was with our daughter, while he always seemed stiff with our son, still trying until the end to make Fitzwilliam someone he could never be, for he could never be just like George no matter how they looked almost the same, but for Fitzwilliam having the height from my family.

When the accident occurred and George perished, as much as I mourned for him, and mourn I did far too much, making myself almost follow him, a small sliver of my mind hoped that things would now be easier for Fitz, not in the sense of his responsibilities that had of course only grown, but that there would no longer be so much judgment and condemnation aimed at him.

Once I had a dream about talking to George in heaven about our son. I was telling him about what happened with his sister Matilda. He nodded and seemed to know all about it even before I told him of it. Then he told me, “This was just the first of many trials our son will face, but he will show his inner strength. And, in the end, he will triumph over all adversity.”

I awoke feeling calm. Likely this was only a fancy of my sleeping self, for surely in seeing how Fitz had done well before, I could anticipate that he would do well again.

I did not share this dream with anyone, only wrote about it in my journal. However, there I speculated about whether it might possibly be a true message, not from George but from God. While I did not think I merited such heavenly attention, I knew my Bible well enough to know that at times God communicated through dreams.

Now is the time I wish I could have a dream sent from heaven, to have some reassurance that all will be well with my son when I am no longer here to help him. Life is still so hard for him, for few understand him.

Sometimes when I think about my own end, I feel the same sort of despair I felt when I could not have Governess Hayes removed. The cancer has its hold on me, and it is drawing me ever closer to the great divide of death and the gatekeeper of death will not be moved.

I know that when I am gone Georgiana will still be here to love him, Edwin too. But will they be enough? Will my brother Dudley be able to let my son be, to be simply his uncle, or will he see opportunity once I am gone to be the merciless Earl and profit from his difficulties?

I do not pray for my own healing anymore. Instead, I pray for my children, that God will bless them and keep them safe. More specifically, of late I find myself praying that God will grant Fitzwilliam a wife who can love him, support him and help him in all things, as my mother helped my father. It will require an extraordinary woman who can look past the surface to my son's kind heart and see his value (not the value of the estate but the value of the man).

I love Georgiana deeply as well, but I have not worried about her the same way I have about Fitzwilliam. She has her brother and cousin to protect her; they will never try to force her into a marriage. She has a strength to her, which reminds me of my sister, but it is softened by her own gentleness, her strength concealed until needed. She does so much for her brother, much more than a girl who is not yet fifteen should have to do. I wish sometimes that she did not have that burden.

I also find my thoughts and prayers focusing on my other two children, the ones who never lived to take a breath. The stillborn son born between Fitzwilliam and Georgiana and the much smaller doll-like one, that passed when only half formed before I had Fitzwilliam. Though I did not get to know them as I would have wished, I love them still.

I know that in heaven we do not have our same mortal bodies, shall have a spiritual body instead; that we are like to seeds planted in the ground from which something new springs forth, the mortal becoming unperishable, for Christ has been resurrected. But I know not how it shall be for my little ones who perished. I feel certain they must be with God, but have they been waiting all this time for me to tend to them, to perhaps even be pregnant with them again? Is such a thing even possible? I would gladly replace this tumor within me for the swell of new life.

Although I did not intend it, I fell asleep with Mrs. Reynolds still by my side and awoke to Georgiana sitting near me. The waking was unpleasant, for the pain recedes while I sleep. Often tears spill forth when I first awaken.

I felt her wipe at my eyes with a handkerchief, opened my eyes to see my beloved daughter. “Do hurt, Mama?” she asked me. “Do you need your laudanum?”

“No, child,” I told her. I prefer to be clearheaded during the day, I wish to think while I still can, to remember who tends to me. “Do you have a new drawing to show me?” She had told me earlier that she was working upon something that she wanted me to see.

“It is not very good,” she confessed as she placed the drawing in my hands.

I observed a detailed drawing of a cluster of roses with leaves in a vase. I recognized that the vase was one that George kept filled with roses for me in the summer. The proportions were not perfect, but the shading of the vase was very well done. I wondered how she had drawn it, pictured her having some denuded stems cut and then arranging them in the vase so that the shadows of the leaves could shade portions of the vase, so she could get that just right. The lines depicting the leaves and stem were very good, while the roses were too formalized, not exactly true to life. But of course, as it was winter, there were no roses to draw from life. She must have added more leaves to the stems as they would have in the summer, but as for the blossoms, she had to draw from memory, perhaps in consultation with some plates in the library books, rather than drawing from the real sight.

I was reminded then that I would never walk in my gardens again, would never see the rose bushes in bloom, would never had cut roses to look upon again. Some of this must have shown in my face for her eyes grew larger and she began apologizing for her skills, not understanding the source of my dismay.

“Nonsense, Georgiana. You must not be so hard on yourself. These roses are beautiful and how kind you are to think of drawing them for me, when there are naught to be seen now.” I left unvoiced the thought that even if it were summer now, I had not the strength to get out of bed, let alone walk to the garden. “You draw very well. Almost as well as you play the piano forte. Please have someone mount it to the wall that I may see it all the time.”

I fell silent then. Talking to her was exhausting, even though I had been somewhat refreshed from my nap.

“I have been thinking,” Georgiana said tentatively, “your room is so far from the music room, too far for you to hear me when I play, but perhaps I could bring my harp in here? I still make more mistakes with it but . . .”

“I should love that,” I told her. When she arose as if to fetch it, with great effort I stretched out my hand which was resting above a blanket. “Do not go now; later will be soon enough.”

Georgiana held my hand and sat with me. She chatted about all her little concerns, silly things, not addressing the fact that I was dying (no one ever did, save for Fitz).

That evening she played the harp for me, and though there may have been errors, it was beautiful. When I was left to sleep that night, the laudanum bitter on my tongue, I thought about the melodies she had played, wondered if I would hear them played again. One of the songs she had played which I had heard on the piano many a time, but never before on the harp, was “Whilst Shepherds Watched Their Flocks by Night” in a nod to the approach of Christmas. I wanted to stay alive until after Christmas had passed, even though that day would not be as it had been before.

Still, that was difficult. Every time I awoke, I wondered if it might be my last day on earth. I had stopped eating by then, but still took more wine and broth than I wished to. I would sip a bit of broth when Georgiana brought it for me. It kept my throat from being too dry and it pleased her so, but I knew it was not enough to sustain me for long.

As I was now alone, I gave myself the freedom to feel my sadness that I would soon be leaving Fitzwilliam and Georgiana behind. I let myself mourn that I would never see my children wed, never hold a grandchild, and never more be with them as their lives were playing out. I wept for a time, although I had few tears. Likely my body is too desiccated for tears now, although the emotions are the same.

After I had pitied myself and them for a few minutes, I redirected my thoughts before they could become too hazy. I reminded myself about those who had gone before me who I would be regaining in the hereafter: my grandparents, Mamma and Papa, Wing and Marcus, George and those little ones. I made myself focus on being in the presence of God as one of his beloved children, did my best to find peace in that. But still, the knowledge of the pain my leaving would cause my living children intruded.

In that moment, focusing on what I would gain was not enough to shut out my doubts, my worries; I tried to make it enough, I told myself it must be enough, attempted to have a mustard seed of faith, to make my peace once again with how things are, for there is nothing else to be done. Whether I want to leave or not, death is coming for me and is nearly at my door.

As I drifted to sleep, I reminded myself to do my best to meet death calmly, to do nothing that would pain or frighten my children, to slip into its embrace with no tears or complaint while I wait for life after death. This will be the final gift I can give my children.


	21. My Staunchest Advocate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy and the rest successfully reach Hertfordshire. Darcy has a vivid and hopeful dream. Darcy attends church and introduces his sister to the Bennets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reviewing. I like to reward reviewers by posting subsequent chapters sooner.
> 
> I bet you all thought that Georgiana (or maybe Elizabeth) is currently Darcy's staunchest advocate, but for purposes of this chapter, could there be someone else in this role? Who do you suppose it could be? I wonder who can guess that person now before reading this chapter.

My staff knows its duty, so when I came outside with Mrs. Annesley, I found almost everything ready for our departure: the carriages were prepared with all baggage stowed, all servants accompanying us collected (save for Georgiana's maid), the refreshments for the ladies packed and the horses saddled (mine had only a brief respite from his saddle but four other horses were saddled as well for the accompanying outriders that served as guards). I made final instructions while awaiting my sister and her maid and then commenced to waiting some more.

Given all that I had undertaken today and that I was on time, I was annoyed that I had to send a servant to check on Georgiana and then received word back that she was not yet ready. It was frustrating to have to send a message to Mr. Gardiner explaining we were slightly delayed. How she had used her time that morning, when I had seen nothing of her, was perplexing.

Being punctual has always been very important to me, as my household and staff well know. It helps me to be comfortable, to feel ordered and at ease. But today it was not just my preferences that mandated a prompt departure time. We were to arrive before the late mail coach. Now Georgiana's delay was upsetting these plans.

Fortunately, Georgiana was only about a half of an hour delayed and I believed we might be able to make up the time on the road without pushing the teams too hard. However, given our delay I was able to do naught but greet Miss Elizabeth before it was time to hand her into the carriage as the ladies at the Gardiner residence were ready to be off. So much had occurred in such a short interval that I could hardly comprehend that it was only the second week in May.

The ride was pleasant enough I suppose, with Mr. Gardiner riding beside me. The sounds of the horses' hooves striking the ground was rhythmic and soothing, the weather good, the road not too dusty but in reasonable condition, and I was occupied enough with making all those little adjustments a rider constantly makes to meld himself with his beast. I thought of little but the road ahead and keeping a constant pace that would complement that of the carriages.

Although we stopped once, the stop was far briefer than I would have liked but had to be so given our late departure. All too soon we arrived at the appointed inn where we would part ways. Miss Elizabeth, after exiting the carriage, spotted her sisters looking down from a window in the inn and bid us go before they became curious enough to come down. Mr. Gardiner promised to call on us on the morrow in the afternoon, though it would be Sunday, to apprise me of any progress made with Mr. Bennet. I well knew that Miss Elizabeth could not call on us as we had no appropriate hostess and I should not call without knowing whether I would be welcomed.

I had the ladies' trunks transferred to the waiting Bennet carriage, their coachman acting with all alacrity to assist, and then we set off for Netherfield. Once we arrived it did not take long before we were all settled in the house, much as if I had not left it.

I took the chambers I had most recently occupied. Though it was my right to take the master's chambers, I was far more comfortable to have my original rooms which looked the same as I had left them and were as distant from those of everyone else as could be contrived. My sister took the very fine guest chambers that Miss Bingley had originally offered me back in the autumn and Mrs. Annesley took a smaller chamber beside hers. With nothing left to do before dinner, I settled down for a very long nap.

When I awoke I remembered two different dreams. The first had to do with Miss Elizabeth touching my thigh. In the dream we were married, and it was our wedding night. We were kissing when she pressed her fingers into my thigh three times and then moved her hand higher and did the same.

In the second dream we were again having a picnic with our young children, like the dream I had had before. In this dream the small bump that had suggested she was expecting another little one had altered into a large hill and my wife needed my help to gain her feet. As I pulled her up, I saw movement ripple across her belly (as her dress was taut across her middle) as I had when my mother was large with Georgiana. My dear wife brought my hand to that very spot and I felt a rolling movement like the shifting of the child's whole body and then somehow, I knew the baby she was carrying was a boy who would be like me.

Time shifted forward several years though it was still the same story with the baby in her womb now a boy who looked like I did. I knew somehow that he had been cared for by loving people his whole life and that he was happy. In the dream we were all having a picnic much like before, my wife, my children, this particular child and me. But it was not just my family; in attendance were all the caring people I have known in my life, including Nurse Storey, Mr. Stowbaugh and Bingley, and they were kind to all my children but especially doting on him. I also had the sense that even my mother's spirit was watching over him. Then a voice from behind me that I knew was my mother (although I was not able to turn around and view her) told me that I must read a letter that Nurse Storey wrote to her.

Upon waking, while I might have liked to contemplate the first dream more, instead I found myself wondering if indeed there was a letter from Nurse Storey to my mother that would reveal what had happened to her since she left Pemberley. I wished then that I were back in London and could ask Mrs. Grotburn if there were any of my mother's correspondence yet in that house, but upon further reflection thought it far more likely that if any remained it would be at Pemberley.

Therefore, when I rewrote the letters to my staff, in the letter to Mrs. Reynolds informing her of my present location and how it was to be kept secret, I also asked her if perhaps my mother's correspondence was collected in the attic. I explained that I was looking for anything that could help me track down Nurse Storey.

Although I had not thought overly much about Nurse Storey in recent years, the remembrance of her filled me with a deep longing to see her again. I wondered if my mother had ever thought to hire her in anticipation of my stillborn brother, or then Georgiana being born. I thought, perhaps, my mother lost all contact with her, or she was happily occupied with another household or a family of her own.

Whether or not I ever married Miss Elizabeth or we had any children, I wished to know how Nurse Storey fared and thank her for all her tender care. It also occurred to me that it would be helpful if Miss Elizabeth could talk to her about what it had been like raising me. If I found Nurse Storey and she desired such, I would employ her in any capacity she wished. In my heart, she was like a second mother to me and all the more precious as she likely still walked the earth.

The following day I attended the local church service. While I noted that Mr. and Mrs. Bennet were in attendance, along with Mr. Gardiner, I did not see any of their daughters. Although I was disappointed, I thought it likely that the eldest Miss Bennets were tired from traveling and perhaps still abed.

While there, I heard the banns called for a local couple. It recalled to me hearing bans called in this very church before. The previous time, I had still been considering whether, perhaps, I would make a match for connections and duty. Then the thought of hearing the reading of the banns, with my name read in connection with that of another, would have been an acknowledgement of being bound, doing my duty, putting all thought of love behind me.

Oh, how different the same thing seemed now! I wished to hear our banns called (and know they were being called in Derbyshire also). Not that I wanted anyone to have the option to object but simply because hearing our names together would be the beginning of the public acknowledgement that my love would wed me.

However, it was unlikely to be the method by which we would be wed, assuming I could gain Mr. Bennet's approval. I had not presumed to obtain a common license, though I had brought a draft of the settlement documents with me. I would act quickly once I could.

The services at the local church were far superior to those at Hunsford and I found myself paying better attention than I had to Mr. Collins. The sermon concerned how the renewal of the land in Spring, showed that we could likewise experience renewal and formerly fallow land could produce abundantly when planted with good crops appropriately tended. I thought it an apt analogy for these people, many of whom worked the land as tenant farmers.

In mediating on the parson’s message, I considered whether the inverse was also true. With George and the Earl rather than merely remaining fallow, they had actively added rocks and stones to their field, leaving only tares able to grow. If anyone tried to till their land in its current condition, they would break their farming implements, trip up and lame their horses. Their weeds spread out and tried to invade the land of anyone close to them. If only I could fence them off.

I was the weak one next to the Earl, but not compared to George Wickham. There was perhaps much I could do there, but I needed to make sure any action I took could not harm my sister. I would need to consult with Miss Elizabeth and Georgiana about this matter.

The Lucases had invited us to join their pew, which I thought was likely based on hearing from Miss Lucas about my role of conveying her to London and home, but perhaps it was simply because Georgiana and Miss Lucas had become friends. They had sat together even before the service began, perhaps exchanging confidences. This was fine with me because although she was a bit silly, I believed there to be no harm in Miss Lucas.

Sitting with the Lucases was, no matter on which basis, likely a fine thing for my status in this place. I was pleased to receive this kind of endorsement as I knew the Lucases were one of the leading families.

I thought that despite whatever Mr. Collins had most recently written to Mr. Bennet, I should still be grateful to him because he had informed me of George Wickham's rumors, and learning Miss Elizabeth would be his guest had enabled me to bring Georgiana and eventually led to me asking for her hand. I wondered how badly I would have bungled things with Miss Elizabeth without Georgiana's assistance. Perhaps I would not have even learned Miss Elizabeth hated me, based on her belief that I interfered in Bingley's courtship of Miss Bennet and hurt George's prospects. Imagining the series of events that might have led to Miss Elizabeth's rejection of me were painful to contemplate.

Yet here I was, all my greatest desires within reach. During our time of prayer, I prayed that God would safeguard all those I hold dear from the schemes of the Earl. I prayed He would protect Miss Vaughn and place her in a place of safety where she could be redeemed from her past actions. I prayed that Edwin would truly repent from his role in causing Miss Vaughn to sin, that he would find favor in God's eyes and be able to find love with the woman God had chosen for him. I prayed for my cousin Robert, that he might yet find happiness with his wife. I prayed that at the time of the harvest all would be wheat and not tares.

Finally, I prayed most earnestly that Mr. Bennet (who was sitting two pews ahead of me and to the right) would find something of value in me and grant me his daughter's hand and this would occur without undue delay. I prayed so long and hard that I missed other parts of the service, but the peace that descended upon me was well worth it.

When the service ended, Mr. Bennet lost no time in trying to herd his wife out of the sanctuary. However, like a recalcitrant sheep (I am well familiar with sheep as we have sheep on a portion of Pemberley’s land), she was determined to escape from her shepherd, and if Mr. Bennet was the shepherd, he had no sheep dog to aid him.

I heard Mrs. Bennet loudly exclaim, “Mr. Bennet, why must you be in such a hurry? I wish to talk to our neighbors and my brother has many people to speak with whom he has not seen since before Christmas.” Imagine my surprise when she sought me out, raising her voice so her greeting to me could be heard over many people conversing between us.

"Hello Mr. Darcy, I am glad you will be our neighbor once more. Tell me is your friend Mr. Bingley returning soon?"

She looked about as if saying Bingley’s name would cause him to suddenly appear. I had a vague recollection of a story I had read as a child, a fairy tale in which a villain could be summoned by his name.

I struggled to reach Mrs. Bennet through the crowd. Though loathe to possibly brush against others in trying to reach her side, I did not want to yell across to her. I felt her words bespoke that she might be my ally.

While I found Mrs. Bennet rather coarse in her behavior and knew she was not always kind to Miss Elizabeth, compared with how Edwin's parents were, she was relatively harmless, and I could use any possible collaborator. Too, her brother Mr. Gardiner was a most sensible sort and perhaps buried underneath everything there might be the core of a rational woman.

Seeing that I was attempting to come to her, Mrs. Bennet easily forced her way through the other parishioners in her eagerness to reach me.

I acknowledged Mrs. Bennet with a half bow and a bobbing of my head. There was not room for more in that crowded space.

"So, Mr. Darcy what do you say?"

I forced myself to be as friendly and courteous as possible.

"Mrs. Bennet what a pleasure to see you again. I saw Mr. Bingley only yesterday in London. I regret to tell you that he does not plan to return to Netherfield. I do not know how much you know of Mr. Bingley current circumstances . . ."

"Yes, yes, I know he has returned to participating in the management of his family's carriage business. I heard as much from Mrs. Lucas before the service began this morning; Maria told her that she, my eldest daughters, the Gardiners and Mr. Bingley and his sisters all dined with you only last night and she learned all about it from Miss Bingley. If Mr. Bingley stays away on account of that you must reassure him that does not matter to my Jane or her family. We still want to host him for a family dinner."

"Your generosity knows no bounds," I told her. Seeing that Georgiana, along with Mrs. Annesley, had made their way to my side I then added, "May I introduce you to my sister and her companion?"

Mrs. Bennet seemed pleased and said, "Certainly!"

After I performed the introductions, Georgiana expressed to her, “I have enjoyed becoming acquainted with your eldest daughters; I hope, perhaps, they might come for an extended visit at Pemberley.”

“Oh, how splendid!” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed. She brought her hands together in front of her chest and smiled broadly.

“I expected to see the Miss Bennets at church today,” Georgiana noted, illuding to my own unvoiced question about where they were.

Mrs. Bennet replied, “Mr. Bennet determined that all of our daughters ought to stay home today, something about the journey having exhausted them. It is a strange thing, for while Kitty and Lydia stayed abed, the other three were up before me.”

Then she quickly asked, while looking in Georgiana’s direction, as if I were not there also, "Are there many eligible gentlemen nearby your estate?"

Though I thought the question quite vulgar and rude, Georgiana considered a moment before replying, “Yes indeed, at least two.”

I was curious about who she would name and listened carefully when Georgiana leaned a bit closer to Mrs. Bennet and said in a loud whisper, "No one is more eligible than my brother. How fortunate for us all that he has become very fond of Miss Elizabeth, for why else do you think he chose to take up residence at Netherfield when it was clear she was leaving town?

“Additionally, often in residence is my cousin Colonel Edwin Fitzwilliam. While Edwin’s own portion is small, he is the son of the Earl of Matlock. Edwin owns an estate near us which Brother says is a bit smaller than your own. During our brief sojourn in London, he seemed to greatly enjoy the company of Miss Bennet and she likewise his."

Mrs. Bennet's eyes grew wide and bright with each detail my sister added. Mrs. Bennet responded, "Miss Darcy you are such a dear girl! How fortunate my daughters have been to gain your friendship! I should dearly like you and your brother to call at Longbourn; my daughters and I will be most delighted I am sure."

Just then Mr. Bennet came upon us, his mouth in a grimace, his eyebrows drawn together. "Mrs. Bennet come along, the carriage is waiting."

"Mr. Bennet," she exclaimed, "You are just the person I wished to see! You must meet Miss Darcy here and her companion."

Mr. Bennet, while apparently eager to get his wife away, was too well mannered to fail to receive an introduction to my sister and Mrs. Annesley.

Georgiana expressed her pleasure in meeting him and explained, “It has been my pleasure to become friends with your eldest daughters.” She said, looking first at Mr. Bennet and then at Mrs. Bennet, "They are certainly a credit to their parents. I was so glad Miss Elizabeth was staying with her cousin Mr. Collins while Brother and I stayed with our aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. We became quite bosom friends along with Lady Catherine's daughter Anne. I hope that while Brother and I are here, to spend much time with them and to meet their sisters. How blessed your home must be to have so many lovely daughters."

It seemed to me that given her large smile with its risen cheeks which caused deep creases by the sides of her eyes and around her mouth, that Mrs. Bennet was very pleased indeed and her words confirmed to me that my impression was correct. "Oh, Miss Darcy you are too kind, you will quickly become a favorite with me!"

"Mr. Darcy, Miss Darcy, Mrs. Annesley, you must excuse us now," Mr. Bennet said, his face stiff but calm, giving us a slight nod before pulling his wife away. I watched as he gestured for Mr. Gardiner to join them.

As they left, I heard Mrs. Bennet continue to exclaim, “Oh I am so delighted with that Miss Darcy. What a great thing this is for our daughters! Oh husband, we are saved! I could scarcely believe it, but it seems that Mr. Darcy may want to marry our Lizzy. It is well indeed that Lizzy did not marry Mr. Collins if she may instead become the mistress of a grand estate. Oh, what pin money, what bonnets and dresses and what gifts she may buy us all. I shall go distracted.”

Although Mr. Bennet seemed to be trying to hush his wife, she blathered on. “But that is not all, Mr. Darcy’s cousin, the son of the Earl of Matlock, has holdings himself and he favors our Jane. Why Mr. Bingley is nothing to the son of an earl!

“And when Jane and Elizabeth have married well, they will spend such time with refined ladies like Miss Darcy and her cousin Miss de Bourgh. Mr. Collins has spoken of Lady Catherine, her daughter and their fine estate often. Undoubtedly with such company my lively Lydia (and the rest) may also make quite eligible matches."

I now found myself to be quite delighted with Mrs. Bennet. I could tell she would be a stalwart advocate for a match between myself and Miss Elizabeth.


	22. The Oak that Must be Felled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy and Georgiana have a pleasant walk outside Netherfield and then Darcy receives some unexpected news from Mr. Gardiner.

As I rode back to Netherfield, accompanying the carriage that bore my sister and her companion, I contemplated the recent interaction with Mrs. Bennet. Usually, I have trouble understanding other people's motives, other people's desires, other people in general if they demonstrate any guile. I will always be this way. If someone speaks honestly to me, I may, perchance understand them. However, many people seem to have many layers. They are onions and where other people may be able to cut through all the layers, I am stuck with the papery wrapper.

At one time I was not aware there were any layers beyond what I could see at the surface and to me even the surface can be perplexing. What does that facial expression mean? What does that tone of voice mean? How do I reconcile a cheerful face with a shaking voice, a sad face with calm words? Trying to make sense of this all is very stressful, threatens to overwhelm.

However, with Mrs. Bennet, I thought perhaps that she might be one of those rare individuals who always says exactly what is on her mind with no guile or prevacation, whose expressions are always consistent with her thoughts. If that were true, I would always know exactly where I stood with her.

While I was not sure that Georgiana should have mentioned Miss Bennet and Edwin, implying that they had an interest in one another, perhaps it now meant that my sister was firmly committed to giving up on the idea of a match between Bingley and Miss Bennet. While undoubtedly Georgiana had done what she thought best to aide me, I was reminded that she was yet in ignorance of all that had transpired between Edwin and his father, knew nothing of the threats he had made, nor that Edwin was giving up his mistress and would be dependent on me for a time. I knew I needed to inform her of what had occurred at least in part.

After tea, I requested “Georgiana, would you join me for walk in Netherfield’s gardens?” She agreed and we commenced to walk. While the rose bushes in the distance attracted my attention, first I walked Georgiana around other parts of the garden. As we walked, she chattered about the Lucases and the Bennets, what her initial impressions were of the local families. I tried to listen, but I was distracted in still thinking about all of Edwin’s revelations from our last days in London.

We entered a section of the park that was wilderness and well populated with trees. I noted the types as we passed them, beech, alder, oak, but then paused before the oak, as I noted something odd. Georgiana released my arm when I stopped and she looked at it, too.

As we had approached the oak tree, everything looked as it ought; it was leafy and green. However, once we were about even with it, I spotted an expanse of brown and, turning, noted it was bare of leaves on one side, and those branches appeared dead.

I walked around it, seeking the source of the problem, but saw no obvious injury to the tree and it did not appear overly old. I returned to her side and told her, “I think this tree is diseased. I hope it is not some sort of blight.”

“What will you do?” she asked me.

“I will have it cut down.”

“Must you? Could not the bare part be cut away? Might it not recover once that is done?”

I shook my head. “Whatever is the matter with it, it is too far gone. The dead branches pose a hazard, and I would not be surprised if the whole tree suddenly toppled. It may look healthy on the one side, but the roots may be bad as well. We should not remain standing so close to it. I will see that what needs doing will be done.”

As we walked away from the tree, I summarized what I had learned from Edwin about the Earl’s plans. In the telling of it, I made my explanation as vague as possible. I did not want her to know the true ugliness of what had occurred. While I knew she would gladly share the full burden of it, there was no need for that.

“The Earl knows of my engagement, directed that Edwin find a way to separate us from one another, mentioned certain methods for doing so that no honorable man would ever do. The Earl still wishes to enact a marriage between you and one of his sons and ordered Edwin to assist with that and, also, to marry Anne to gain her fortune. Apparently suspecting his son would be recalcitrant, the Earl threatened to cut off Edwin’s allowance and take his . . .”—I was not sure how I wanted to refer to Miss Vaughn—“ _woman_ from him. Rather than risk her safety, Edwin has determined to send her away with ample funds. I am convinced of his loyalty to us now and have offered him refuge with us. Given the situation, I expect he will live with us for some time as he will not have the money for matrimony now.”

While I spoke, Georgiana’s eyes grew wide. When I ceased to speak, she responded, "Brother, I am so sorry. You are being punished for not wanting to match me to one of my cousins. I ought not have hinted to Mrs. Bennet as to a possible future between Edwin and Miss Bennet. While it is well that he has given his ‘woman’ up, I did not know that this would beggar him to the point that he could not marry.”

But then, her expression changed, and her voice sounded off when she told me "It is my fault that the Earl found out about Miss Elizabeth. I was the one who told Aunt Emmeline that you wanted to be matched with someone other than Anne and had already found her. I shared things I ought to have kept quiet, perhaps they will later use against us the fact that I almost eloped with George."

I corrected her, “You did nothing wrong but trust people who ought not to have been trusted. The Earl and people of his ilk live by a different set of rules than we do. He has no honor, only avarice. The Earl likely knew something of Miss Elizabeth already from Edwin, but also learned about our museum outing not from Edwin saying anything about it. The Earl, perhaps, set someone to spy upon us. Having reports about how we were together, mayhap learning of our dinners and our outings, he drew his own conclusions.”

I was not sure if my words had comforted her or not, but she fell silent, took up my arm again and we continued walking.

After we passed the box hedges and entered the rose garden, my eyes kept searching each rose bush carefully. While I did not think we had yet reached the bush which had snagged Elizabeth’s ribbon, I did not want to miss spying it. The bushes all looked very different now that they were verdant with new growth and with roses fully in bloom: red, pink, white and yellow.

As I recalled, when I pulled the ribbon free, a single thread had remained on the thorn. Would I be able to find the very bush which had captured Miss Elizabeth’s ribbon and set me on the course to seek her out?

Georgiana soon enough asked, “What are you looking for, Brother?” Once I explained, she began helping me, pausing by each rose bush to look at it, carefully lifting some branches out of the way with her hand padded by a handkerchief. Even so, she pricked her fingers once and then twice before I insisted that I use my gloved hands instead.

I was not more successful in avoiding the thorns, but it was better that I be injured than her. On the third bush I checked, bedecked with lovely deep red blooms (I recalled that in the language of flowers, this color meant these roses symbolized love), I spied it, that single thread, bedraggled, faded to almost white where it was still attached to the thorn, stained brown on the end that hung free, but confirmation that it had once held her ribbon.

I pointed out the thorn and thread to my sister. Georgiana bid me, “Stay here, Brother, stay in this very spot.” She hurried away without providing any explanation.

I did as she bid, reliving every detail of discovering Miss Elizabeth’s ribbon, feeling the excitement of spying an out-of-season butterfly, letting my feet draw me near, and then seeing that it was just a ribbon but then realizing that it was _her_ ribbon. I recalled feeling the compulsion to free it and acquire it. Then I recalled how at Rosings I had accidentally dropped the ribbon in front of Miss Elizabeth, how she had taken it away, but then later gave it back to me freely on her own inclination, how I had given her my string in its stead, and then later when she had agreed to be my wife.

In a few minutes Georgiana returned with a chair and her sketch pad. She explained, “I shall draw this very rosebush and thorn to commemorate that auspicious moment.” I followed her instructions to lift up the branches again so she could see the thorn. When she gave me permission to let the bush go, I walked around to observe her drawing. The thorn was there, with a little shading, and she had begun to trace a ribbon mid-flutter.

“Is this how it was, brother?”

The still image she was drawing was both like and unlike my remembering.

“May I borrow the ribbon to make my rendering more exact?” she asked me.

I was loath to be parted from it for even a few minutes, but this was my trusted sister. Still, I said nothing for perhaps two minutes as I contemplated the matter.

My sister knows to be patient when I am considering something, did not repeat her question or do anything to interrupt or annoy me.

Finally, I drew it forth and holding it before me, moved my arm to try to demonstrate how it waved. I then loosely looped it around my finger, “It was sort of like so,” I waved it again. “It looked something like a butterfly to me, with a portion caught up in the sprig of leaves.

“Were the leaves above or below the thorn?”

“Up and to the left,” I recalled. I did not hand the ribbon to her, instead trying to adjust it to match what I remembered. She sketched then requested, “Pull up the branch again? I would like to see if that same little branch remains.

I put away the ribbon, carefully. Then I lifted the branch and spotted the sprig, which was bigger and longer now. “It was this one, but then it was perhaps half this length, had only a cluster of three leaves.” I looked for another example, “more like this one, perhaps. There were few leaves in general, though, given the season.”

“I have it now, I believe,” Georgiana told me, and I was able to lower the branch once again.

I went to stand near her, to watch her drawing take place, see how lines became shape and form. It was not quite as I remembered it, but it was like enough to bring forth the same feelings inside my chest.

After a few moments of me observing, Georgiana exclaimed, “I cannot bear you watching me as I draw; perhaps you can go back inside and send Mrs. Annesley out instead. She can advise me on my technique. Now not a word about this to Miss Elizabeth. If it should turn out well, I may color it with watercolors and later present it to you both after you wed.”

I recalled another drawing my sister had done, this one of roses rather than of a rose bush, one she had given to our mother which still hung on the walls of the mistresses’ chambers at Pemberley. I had changed nothing since our mother passed.

I did as my sister bid, trying to keep my mind upon the pleasant memories of Miss Elizabeth and her sojourn at Netherfield rather than dwell in my worries. I walked about the house to every place I had seen her, imagined how our conversations could have varied. Thus, I was inside when Mr. Gardiner came calling that afternoon.

I had Mr. Gardiner shown into Bingley’s library, which I supposed was my library for now. It was a room with sadly bare shelves, but for six volumes. However, I had discovered to my delight that one was the volume of Samuel Coleridge’s poems, a bookmark still at page seventy-three, where the poem “The Presence of Love” could be found.

Mr. Gardiner’s expression was one I did not recognize. In my mind I tried out different words to try to name the emotion he might be demonstrating, wondering which one fit. He was pale but had flushed cheeks. He looked a little sickly but had no other symptoms of sickness. He grimaced and rubbed at his lips, his chin.

Mr. Gardiner’s voice sounded odd when he asked, “How are you Mr. Darcy?” I answered and he said something else that seemed disjointed, and then he asked how I was again, as if he had taken no notice of my previous answer.

As Mr. Gardiner talked to me, at first we were standing; as he stood he kept smoothing his clothes. I suggested we sit. While we were sitting, he kept unfolding and refolding his handkerchief. While I could not assign an emotion to him, I suddenly realized he was doing things as I might when everything seemed out of control, so it came to me that perhaps he might be feeling anxious.

The calm and steady Mr. Gardiner being so, made me feel out of sorts myself.

After a few minutes of very awkward talking, I thought about what would be soothing to me in my distress, that Mr. Gardiner might be willing to do. I asked, “Should you like to ride with me?” He rapidly agreed.

My horse was saddled quickly, and I noticed that when he mounted his, his horse's hide glistened as if he had just been ridden hard. I deliberately set a slow and easy pace, but one that would quickly take us away from prying eyes. I had a feeling there was something he needed to talk about, but he had not wished to do it where so many servants were present.

When I located a suitable clearing well away from any homes, near the stone wall that separated Netherfield from the Long property, I slowed and then stopped my horse. I dismounted and he did the same.

"What is it Mr. Gardiner?" I asked.

He sighed and looked around at anything but me. Shaking his head in a "no" gesture he said, "When we arrived yesterday, we were already too late."

"Too late? But we arrived before the post." I did not understand. No one had seemed upset yesterday though Georgiana had made us arrive later than we had planned. I did not understand how our half-hour delay could make him so troubled. I felt like I was missing something, but what I did not know, not yet.

"At least a couple of days too late," he clarified, but I still did not understand.

"What do you mean?" I finally asked when it appeared no further information would be forthcoming.

Mr. Gardiner answered my question with another question. "When did Colonel Fitzwilliam speak with his father about everything you both told me about on Saturday morning?"

I thought for a minute. "I believe it was Thursday evening, though he told me nothing about it until Friday after the outing for new milk."

"Ah," he said, "that would explain it. When we arrived at Longbourn yesterday I could not understand why my brother Bennet was so opposed to the match. I tried reasoning with him, so did my niece, but he was adamant that no marriage should ever take place between you and Elizabeth. He was also very angry when he heard we had arrived at the George Inn with you.

“During the carriage ride home from church, my sister was crowing about the hearts her daughters had conquered, how you would soon be her son. Bennet said to her, ‘Give your red rag a rest, that shall never come to pass.’ Of course, my sister would not be silent, noting all the advantages to them. When we reached Longbourn, she immediately sought out Elizabeth, asked her to explain, ‘Is it true, have you captured the interest of Mr. Darcy?’

“When Elizabeth owned that she had, Bennet bid Elizabeth and me to accompany him to his study. Once the door was closed, he said ‘Lizzy, you shall not marry Mr. Darcy.’

Naturally, we bid him explain and he did. I believe he thought that Elizabeth might only have a thin sort of inclination toward you, more based upon your consequence than anything else, that he might easily part you if he explained why that was a prudent choice.”

I felt my own brow wrinkle in confusion as I tried to understand what he was telling me. Mr. Gardiner further clarified, “The lion’s share of Bennet’s opposition did not stem from anything Mr. Collins wrote or any gossip he ever heard about you. Instead, it was the result of the interference of an outside force. I am not clear on the 'who,' though I can guess 'whom' was behind the 'who.' I am also not clear on the precise 'how,' but I think the 'when' was Thursday."

I was still quite perplexed as to what Mr. Gardiner knew and what was occurring that had him this upset. Surely Mr. Bennet’s “no” only meant “not yet.” I knew that despite my malady, I was still a most eligible match, especially for a woman with a small portion and four sisters, whose family estate was entailed away from the female line.

Mr. Gardiner said, "I thought it was unusual when on Friday morning before I had even left my house, my maid said I had a letter from Mr. Bennet and that it had been delivered by a messenger in livery. Such a thing is not his style, he has not the money for things such as that; if he had he would not have his daughters travel by post."

I started to have a suspicion of where this might be going and began feeling a little faint, felt myself sway a bit.

"You see, the letter that arrived that way was the one he wrote which summoned the ladies to come home on Saturday on the midday post from London. I am not sure just what Miss Elizabeth told you about this letter, but in it he said he was sure you could not have an understanding and that you were not to be trusted to escort his daughters. I was not satisfied by what I thought was an unjust demand under the circumstances, which is why I resolved to escort the ladies home myself so that I could advocate for you. However, knowing you wanted to go as well, I did not see the harm in you conveying them, so long as we both rode, as I have the trust of my brother Bennet."

Mr. Gardiner took in a deep breath and continued. I noticed a drop of perspiration dripping down his brow. While it was a lovely day, it was not too warm and there was a breeze.

Mr. Gardiner paused to mop at his brow with his handkerchief. "I am sorry, I am telling this all in a confusing way, let me be clear now. By the time the Colonel spoke to you, I believe the Earl's emissary had already spoken to Mr. Bennet and the letter to me was first taken to the Earl and then delivered to me by one of his servants.

“My brother would not tell me just what he was told, but he said ‘Threats were made that I could not ignore. Threats that will come to pass if I allow Mr. Darcy to marry Lizzy.’ He explained to me, ‘I cannot oppose someone with such power. I must need act as instructed, to prevent harm from befalling my family.’ And as he said these things, his eyes were wild, like to a horse about to bolt, and I felt his fear.

“Then Bennet told me, ‘Trust none of the servants.’ I believe that means that one of them will be the eyes and ears for horrible consequences if he does not obey. After that he told us more firmly, ‘As I live and breathe, my daughter Lizzy shall _never_ marry Mr. Darcy; no matter his consequence, the price is not worth it.’"

Now I understood why Mr. Gardiner had looked so odd, this news had greatly upset him. It seemed whatever opposition Mr. Bennet had expressed about the match in the letter to Mr. Gardiner, it was never truly about me, it was all about the Earl.

I felt foolish that Edwin and I had believed we had time to combat the threat, when already everything had been resolved against me. A small part of me considered: Was there truly a threat to Miss Vaughn or if that was merely a diversion? If it was a true threat, what had we done by letting Miss Bingley assist Miss Vaughn when the Earl had such information, such resources?

But a much larger part of me was already succumbing to despair, the word “never” ringing in my ears, echoing. My supposed willing sacrifice of Elizabeth before, if needed to safeguard her, was nothing to being told that I could not ever marry her.

The fates of Miss Bingley and Miss Vaughn were nothing to me then. Nothing mattered and nothing would ever matter again. For now, I felt a terrible pressure on my chest. I was the oak that must be felled. For I felt cleft in two, ready to topple because I had lost Miss Elizabeth forever.

I felt my hands begin to shake and felt that I could not breathe properly. In only a few moments it seemed as if the ground had rushed up to meet me, but in fact I had fallen on the ground. I heard screaming and wailing that seemed to come from a distance, but then I realized it was coming from me.

I was able to silence my screams by wrapping my arms around my legs which were tucked up to my belly and rocking myself as I softly hummed. Somehow this news had made me feel just as I had when Governess Hayes was so abjectly cruel. If the Earl had been present, I certainly would have moved to attack him, but here in this meadow, there was nothing I could do, but give free rein to the pain, let my body act as it would and wait to come back to myself.

I must have had no rational thoughts for a period of time, but then I began to hear a voice. "Mr. Darcy, Mr. Darcy!" I heard the voice as if from far away. "Mr. Darcy, Mr. Darcy!" Now it was a bit closer or at least I was focusing on it better. Then I realized someone was touching my shoulders, which felt oddly numb, or maybe that was all of me. I forced my head to look up, my eyes (which were leaking tears) to focus.

"Mr. Darcy, Mr. Darcy!" I looked up into the face of Mr. Gardiner.

I forced out the only word that came to my tongue, "What?"

That must have been enough for him as he let go of my shoulders.

"I have a letter for you from Elizabeth."

Then he was pulling something from an inner pocket, and I saw a piece of folded paper appear in his hand.

I unclasped my legs with my right arm and the other soon loosened its grip and I reached out to take the letter. It was simply folded and unfurled with a simple shake, however when I had it open before me though I could see variations in dark and light, my eyes still swam with tears and I could not make the words out, so I held it back to him and said, "Can you read it to me?"

"I have not seen her letter," Mr. Gardiner replied, "but I believe it is meant to be private. Perhaps if you have a few more minutes to collect yourself?"

It felt like he was asking the impossible. I must have nodded or perhaps brought the letter a bit closer to my body because he did not take it; instead, he quietly waited. Knowing that I had such a letter calmed me some and I was able to uncurl myself a bit by bit, until I was simply sitting on the grass. My head was pounding, but my eyes began to clear, and it came to me that I was no long crying. A part of me acknowledged that Mr. Gardiner was right, I _would_ be able to collect myself enough, eventually, to read her letter.

Before I could see clearly enough to do so, I was already wondering if the letter was a goodbye or if it was to give me hope. That second thought helped me, gave me strength enough to pull out my own handkerchief to swipe at my eyes and blow into.

I felt exhausted. Not the good exhausted of running a race or working hard on my estate all day, but the kind of exhausted when against your will you lay awake all night and have many tasks before you for the day, but it was still a deeper exhaustion than that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the reviews. Can you guess what will be in Elizabeth's letter?


	23. A Message and a Messenger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy receives a letter from Elizabeth, reflects on his next steps and later meets with a new ally.

Finally, when I brought the letter before my eyes again, I could focus a bit better on her script, could see all the loops and the tilt of her letters, even if I could not yet make the words out. A few more blinks and I began to read.

_Dear F.D.,_

_I know you have just heard the most terrible news from my uncle but be not thereby too alarmed on receiving this letter that anything that has occurred would change my sentiments. My feelings are still what they were in April; my affections and wishes are unchanged. My love for you remains steady. We have already overcome many obstacles to reach our understanding and doubtless there are many to come. I would never do anything to pain you, so I certainly cannot now and will never reject your offer._

_How could I reject what I have already accepted? It simply cannot be done. My wish for the happiness of the both of us, that we be bound together before God, remains the same, and nothing can detach me from you._

I felt such relief and if that was all the letter had contained it would have been enough. But there was yet more to read.

_Neither will I permit you to decide that for the good of myself or my family that we must be parted. I shall not accept such a remedy._

_The Earl may not think it a great depravity to separate two young persons whose affection has grown in only a few short weeks, but he could not understand the serious nature of our attachment as I doubt one such as him has ever felt love. Though he is your close relation, his defects, his vicious propensities, want of principles and the evils of his choices cannot prevent our marriage._

_He ought not be an earl, free from all restraint and allowed to live a life of idleness and dissipation, but who can understand why God places some people where he does? Now that I understand about his violent abuse of others, his cruel actions in trying to gain your fortune is of no surprise, but he will not succeed. I doubt he has ever faced my resolve or yours._

_Tonight, I will let my father reflect on the fact that I have told him that I refuse to comply with his entreaty to reject your offer and will resist every repetition of it because my affection for you is sincere and returned with equal regard by you. I have even told him that such is my love that I would consent to an elopement._

_I will endeavor to learn in the course of the morning how exactly the Earl has threatened my father. I believe he will consult further with my uncle and eventually confide in me. Nothing will ultimately prevent our marriage. It is a certain event; it is only the time at which it will take place which is undecided._

_All my love,_

_E.B._

I felt relief and something uncoiled in my chest, something that I did not even realize before had compressed it. I began to breathe more freely, think more clearly. All I could really focus on was that I had not yet lost her, Miss Elizabeth, my darling and my beloved. Her resolve was steely, her mind determined, and I could draw from her strength and love, both were like a warm blanket which was surrounding me, protecting me from harm.

Yet I could not risk her safety or that of her family. Eloping would leave her family vulnerable to the Earl's punishment and retribution. If I could but remove all her family to Pemberley, then their house, land or tenants might be made to suffer. I pondered whether hiring guards for them would be of help, but how could guards protect them if the threat could be from their servants? But perhaps the suggestion of threatened harm from that quarter was merely more misdirection. I would wait and find out what she could discover from her father, but any resolution of the matter could not, would not leave them subject to the whims of the Earl.

I carefully folded her letter back up and placed it in my own pocket. I got up slowly, not fully trusting my own feet. When I finally felt some confidence I would not fall, I turned to address Mr. Gardiner.

He was waiting patiently, quietly.

I told him simply, "Thank you."

Mr. Gardiner replied, "You have my support. I will do all I can; I can do no less." He promised to keep me apprised of any developments. We remounted our horses and as soon as I had led him back to the road in front of the estate, we separated and rode off in different directions.

I was glad to return to Netherfield. While I had tasks to perform, I had not the strength now for any of them; they would have to be delayed. Instead, I retreated to my room, huddled underneath a blanket on my bed and read Miss Elizabeth's letter again and again.

After a while, I noticed I could hear faint sounds coming from the piano forte in another part of the house. I strained to hear them, was able to make out after a while that Georgiana was practicing what must have been a difficult portion of a piece again and again. Then there was silence for a time, and then she began playing another tune and within a few notes I could tell she was playing the folk tune that my mother used to sing to me when I was yet a lad. Although she could not know how much I needed to hear her music, it was a balm to me.

While such was my lasting distress that I wished to remain abed, I knew I ought not give into such desire for there were things that needed to be done. Georgiana and Miss Elizabeth were depending upon me. A while later I rose and began making a list of everything I knew about the Earl.

I felt better that I was finally doing something, no matter how small towards mastering the situation. I quickly realized I knew far less about the Earl than I had thought and considered how best to locate additional information. Edwin would be a good source, but I was not sure how to summon him hither without it coming to the attention of the Earl; perchance, the Earl thought him still bound to him.

Lady Catherine could also potentially provide valuable insight about her brother, but I hesitated about whether I should go to her. While I knew we had a common interest in protecting Anne, and from our last conversations I did not think she wanted Anne matched to Edwin, I was not sure how much she might want to directly oppose her brother. Perhaps she would eventually be amenable to a match between Edwin and Anne.

I wondered what my mother could have told me about her brother the Earl. It occurred to me that just as her correspondence might provide me helpful clues to find Nurse Storey, her journals might also teach me more about the Earl. The difficulty was that all of my mother's effects were two days away at Pemberley and were voluminous enough that I could not trust anyone to send me the most pertinent of them.

I knew I would need to do something, rather than just stay at Netherfield and never see Miss Elizabeth and wait for whatever the Earl had planned to simply occur to us here. Perhaps it was a fool’s errand, but it seemed to me that I needed to go either to Rosings or to Pemberley to see if I could gain some insight into the Earl. Perhaps I would be able to learn of some weakness I could exploit.

However, right then I knew I was too shaky, too upset, to make that kind of decision. Now was the time to recuperate so that later I could do whatever would be necessary.

That evening, I acquainted my sister with the threats the Earl had made to Mr. Bennet, what I knew of them in any event. She immediately noted, “I believed I was helping you when I encouraged Mrs. Bennet to think there might be a future match between you and Miss Elizabeth, but instead, perhaps, I have further endangered the Bennets.”

I tried my best to reassure my sister that she had done nothing wrong and then asked her what she thought about seeking further answers about how the Earl could be worked upon from Lady Catherine or our mother’s journals.

“Tis a difficult choice,” she opined. "Mother was so meticulous and she knew her brother far better than we do, but with Lady Catherine we can ask her questions rather than just hope the answers have already been supplied."

“I have an inclination to go to Pemberley first,” I told her. “I recall on more than one occasion mother telling me how her brother was opposed to the match between herself and our father, wanted her to marry higher. Yet, somehow, they found a way to wed before her majority. I have been thinking, perhaps she knew of something that I could make use of, too.”

“Do you mean you hope she knew some devastating secret that you could exploit for your own benefit?” Georgiana asked. “That sounds like something the Earl would do.”

“Perhaps threats are the only thing that would stay his hand,” I responded. “I would not normally wish to act in such a way, but he threatens the safety of my love and her family, seeks to prevent our happiness. I will not just give Miss Elizabeth up if there is anything else to be done.”

“I understand,” Georgiana told me, laying her hand upon my forearm for a moment. “You could never be like him, even if you might have to employ his methods this one time to counter him.”

I asked her then, not supposing that my sister would have any good suggestions that had not previously occurred to me. “Do you suppose there is any way to safeguard Miss Elizabeth and her family while we are gone?”

Georgiana reflected for several seconds and then suggested. “Do you think some misdirection would stand you in good stead here as we did with Edwin? Perhaps, Brother, you and Miss Elizabeth should engineer a public dispute while retaining a secret understanding.”

I pondered her suggestion. I thought it a good one, although even pretending to be at odds with Miss Elizabeth was painful to contemplate.

Georgiana must have seen my hesitation for she added, “Would that not give her a measure of protection against the Earl? What cause has he to harm _her_ if she will not wed _you_?”

“I suppose it would,” I acknowledged. “Ideally, not even her father or mother would know the truth. While I do not wish to even seem to give her up, it may in the end be necessary to wait for her majority (which is only a few months away) and then swiftly marry by common license whether her father agrees or not.”

I resolved to discuss these sorts of matters with Mr. Gardiner when I next heard from him but wondered when that would be. I did not have to wait very long to receive word of our next meeting, as it turned out.

That evening I had a caller whom I did not recall ever being introduced to before, a Mr. Sebastian Hill. I instructed that he be shown into my study (naturally after I had arrived at Netherfield I had the servants instructed to never enter the study or library without my express permission as was my rule at home).

Mr. Hill was already waiting in the study when I entered. He was a non-descript man of middling height with medium brown hair. His clothes bespoke that he was a merchant. I closed the door and he introduced himself, speaking so quietly that I had to step quite close to him to hear. I suppose he did this in case anyone was listening at the door. "I am Sebastian Hill, my mother is the housekeeper at Longbourn, has served there more than twenty years. I am not usually a messenger, but it seems there is some fear that someone may tamper with the Bennets’ servants. I do not work for the Bennets. I own a nicknackatory in Meryton.

“Mr. Gardiner visited my shop with the ostensible purpose of buying toys for his children and did in fact purchase paper dolls and paper soldiers, but unfortunately as he had already had his hands filled with other purchases, he managed to leave his parcel at my store. His real purpose was to bid me to bring this to you. I will wait for your answer and deliver it to Longbourn concealed in his forgotten parcel. While I have not as good of an excuse for visiting you as for visiting Longbourn, we hope no one is yet in place to watch you."

Mr. Hill reached inside his coat and handed me a sealed note. I opened it, shattering the red wax which had no imprinted seal. It said simply, "Meet us an hour after first light at the clearing from today." The script looked feminine and I was almost sure it would match the script of my previous letters from Miss Elizabeth.

It took but a moment for me to answer. I drew out a piece of paper, dipped a quill in ink and simply wrote, "I will." Then I folded my note and handed it to him. I considered sealing it with wax but left it alone. There was no need to draw further attention to such a missive.

Mr. Hill told me, "If you should need someone as a go-between going forward, you can find me at my shop. I often go to Longbourn to visit my mother, at least twice a week; this is my longstanding practice."

I wished to reward Mr. Hill for his service, but as he was no servant, but someone doing Miss Elizabeth a favor, I was not sure if giving him any kind of monetary renumeration might not be more insult than compliment. Too, I also needed to provide an excuse for his probable future visits.

Mr. Hill’s discussion of Mr. Gardiner's gift for his children gave me an idea. Not all children had fathers that could afford to make purchases at the nicknackatory. While the parish seemed prosperous enough, that did not mean that there was not a workhouse some place about, that there were not families receiving outdoor relief.

I thought of the beggar boy in London and his sister. How much happier would he be if he could but spin a top, watch it go round and round and round again and again and again?

I responded, "Your purpose in coming today was in response to my request that we discuss the procuring of some toys for charitable giving to worthy but impoverished families, anonymously, of course. The normal alms giving may feed and clothe, but the children still need their childhood pastimes."

Mr. Hill nodded, then asked, "Do you really wish to make such a gift?"

I responded, "Would you have a means to deliver such gifts if I purchased them?"

He smiled and responded, "Yes. It would be my pleasure."

Thus, instead of a tip I gave him money toward such purchases, requesting that he use it for sturdier toys such as tops, marbles, rag dolls and tin soldiers.

Mr. Hill seemed quite pleased and I felt happy that what to me was a relatively small sum could bring joy to others.


	24. Like Something from a Novel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy and Elizabeth finally meet up and act as those violently in love are wont to do. Soon they are joined by Mr. Gardiner and have a long discussion about the threats Mr. Wilmington made and what should be done about them.

The next morning, I awoke early and, after breaking my fast, spent perhaps half an hour reading Coleridge’s poems. I first read the “Rime of the Ancient Mariner” before flipping to the bookmarked poem, which I diligently studied. I took the volume with me when I rode my horse to the meeting place, carrying it in an otherwise empty saddlebag.

Naturally, I was early to the meeting as I was eager to see Miss Elizabeth. I spent the extra time reading some poems but kept the bookmark where it was.

Miss Elizabeth arrived about half an hour later and I watched as she emerged from the woods, When I had imagined her appearing, she was wearing her yellow dress that meant so much to me because it matched her token, but on this morning, she was wearing another dress that I recognized, the pink dress she had been wearing when I proposed.

I was immediately taken back to that the muddy day when I had proposed to her behind the Collinses’ chicken coops. I set down the book upon the stone wall and then hurried toward her.

As the distance between Miss Elizabeth and the trees expanded, I was able to surmise that it was only her. Rather than having her uncle present also, as I had expected from the “we” in the note, we were alone.

I felt . . . well I do not know exactly what I felt, but it was a good feeling that filled me up, caused me to act without much thought. I am afraid I did not act quite the gentleman and she did not act quite the lady as we both rushed towards the other, drawn together like magnets.

Of course, nothing she could have done, or did, could have ever altered my opinion that I was not worthy of her and her affection was a most precious gift. Instead of politely talking and sharing our mutual esteem in words, we drew close together and embraced each other.

All my plans for propriety were quickly cast aside as my arms wrapped around Miss Elizabeth’s back as her arms wrapped around my neck and within moments, I had bent down enough that our lips could meet in a kiss. I hesitated on the cusp of it, and it was up to her to bridge that last inch or two, and bridge it, she did!

Although I am sure the kisses that we exchanged upon our engagement were plenty sweet, these kisses seemed even better than those I recalled from before. Perhaps it was because of all the time our lips had been apart, and because we both knew better what to do. Perhaps it was simply because we were reassuring each other that despite what had occurred, we were still fully committed to marrying, to being joined together.

As much as I wanted to keep kissing Miss Elizabeth, I kept trying to pull back, even while she held me more firmly. I feared if we persisted, we would forget all about talking and might be tempted to proceed in further intimacies than we ought, but I had not the self-discipline to simply stop kissing her, for it felt so very good, so right and it was as if the kisses were reaching down deep inside me making my whole body feel kissed and loved.

It was with much effort several minutes later that I decisively separated my lips from hers. I turned my head and pressed small kisses to her cheeks instead of her lips, at least as far back toward her hair as I could, until the edge of her bonnet got in my way and I stopped. I wished to take off my gloves and remove her bonnet so that I could continue to kiss her face and then pull her hair free. I wished to run my hands through her curls, to discover for myself how long her hair might be if I pulled a coil straight, and how it would feel against my fingers, but I dared not leave her disheveled.

My darling did not seem to care as much about my appearance as she stripped her gloves off, pulled my gloves off also and then ran her small hands and fingers through my hair. The sensation felt very good, though foreign, and I recalled Edwin telling me that Sylvia did that to him, to comfort him.

As I could not reciprocate, instead with my now bare right hand I stroked the side of Miss Elizabeth’s face and down one side of her neck, then letting my fingers trace across the unclothed portion of her collarbone before running them up the front of her neck, over her chin, along her lips (which kissed my fingers as I did so) and jaw line. I followed the angle of this bone until I reached the lobe of her ear, rubbing it softly between the pads of my thumb and pointer finger, relishing the feel of this soft flesh that belonged to her that I had never felt before.

Then I moved my hand (as limited by the edge of her bonnet, around to the back of her neck, where I could feel the wispy bits of hair that had escaped her pins. They were soft, and the back of her neck was warm.

Miss Elizabeth shivered then, although it was not cold. She should have been warm enough as she had her spencer on.

Her fingers then moved from rubbing through my hair to skim forward along my face until she held my cheeks and jaw in her hands. While she did so, she gazed up at me. The look we exchanged was very intense and I knew I would have to look away soon, but while our gaze held, I said "I am so very glad to see you, my darling," before focusing my eyes higher, to the sky and hills beyond.

"I have been so worried about you, my Mr. Darcy. My uncle said you did not take the news well." Her words dampened but could not fully suppress my ardor.

"Your letter set me right," I answered simply, my eyes coming to rest upon her for a moment as I gently stroked the back of her neck, felt the little wispy hairs again. I wondered what exactly Mr. Gardiner had told her. It was embarrassing to know that he had seen me at my most vulnerable, most afflicted moment. "How did you know how much I would need it?"

"I did not," she confessed, "except I needed to hear the same reassurance from you, so here we are."

I pulled her back into me, this time resting her bonneted head against my chest as I spoke to her. "I will not give you up if there is any other way, I love you too dearly, but I cannot risk your safety. However, I will use all means at my disposal to eliminate the danger to you. Have you learned just what threat was made to your father and how it was delivered?"

Just then I heard the pounding of hooves and Miss Elizabeth broke away from me saying, "That will be my Uncle Gardiner." She leaned down to retrieve our gloves from the ground and focused as I was upon the movement, I noticed that the bottom of her gown was still faintly stained from mud, not from today’s walk, but from before; here was proof of when I proposed, and she walked through the mud to spend such time with me.

Miss Elizabeth handed me my gloves and then immediately turned in the direction I expected Mr. Gardiner was coming from, based on the steady and increasing beat of the cantering hooves. We both hurriedly donned our gloves and stood, waiting for him.

Moments later, Mr. Gardiner, atop his brown stallion, came over the hillside in the opposite direction from which Miss Elizabeth had emerged. He slowed his horse to a walk, stopping and dismounting perhaps ten feet from us. Like my mount, his horse immediately began to graze, grasping bits of grass with his lips and teeth.

"I was delayed by your father and then thought it wise to come by another route," he told Miss Elizabeth. Then, looking first at me and then her, he said, "I hope you have both been behaving with all due decorum."

I suspected he could tell we had not, but neither of us said anything. I wondered, was his tone condemning or amused? I could not tell.

Mr. Gardiner asked, “Have you told him any of it yet?” Miss Elizabeth merely shook her head, to which he clucked his tongue. “Why does this not surprise me?”

Miss Elizabeth began, “On Thursday, my father was visited by a gentleman with the name of Mr. Ralph Wilmington.”

“I know of him, have seen him before,” I told them. “He functions as a kind of debt collector for the Earl.” I pictured him then. He was a short but stocky barrel-chested man of about five decades with black hair, long broad sideburns and dark eyes.

Then as Mr. Gardiner began to tell what had occurred between Mr. Wilmington and Mr. Bennet, I began to imagine the two of them talking, filling in what Mr. Gardiner told me of the situation. The only thing that was missing was for me to know what facial expressions they were making. Their faces (but for their lips moving with speech) were impassive.

As the conversation continued a pace, it was soon apparent to me that there would be no recreating it in my mind as Mr. Gardiner and then Miss Elizabeth would explain details in a way that soon overthrew whatever previous conceptions I had. Unable to imagine with any kind of accuracy, I was limited to focusing on their words, trying to determine what it all meant as I listened.

Apparently, Mr. Wilmington came right out and told Mr. Bennet that it would be in his best interest if Miss Elizabeth did not marry me, but rather than being scared at first, Mr. Bennet merely laughed at him. Mr. Bennet explained that although he had received a letter from Mr. Gardiner telling him that I wanted to court his daughter and they were impressed by me, that his daughter loathed me, could not really want to marry me, was likely just making sport of me and would later send me away disappointed.

My bride shook her head in negation and then looked right into my eyes as she commented, “Mr. Darcy, it shames me that my father believed I would behave in such a way (if indeed that was what he believed and he was not just trying to confound Mr. Wilmington). I know not whether it means he does not know my true character, or perhaps my choices of the past make him think I would act in such a way. However, tis false. Even if I still felt about you as I did before, I would never be so cruel; Papa should have known better.” She walked the few feet between us, extended her hand and grabbed my arm. She squeezed it three times before releasing it and moving back a little.

Mr. Gardiner then took up the account and related that Mr. Wilmington demanded of Mr. Bennet that he show him Mr. Gardiner’s letter and had a very different interpretation of it than Mr. Bennet had. Mr. Wilmington then ordered Mr. Bennet to write a letter back, making it clear that Miss Elizabeth was to have nothing to with me and should return home. He explained that Mr. Wilmington then took the letter, stating that as he was returning to London, he would see that it was delivered. Mr. Gardiner opined that the letter had then been taken to the Earl and delivered by one of the Earl’s servants the following day. 

I addressed Mr. Gardiner then, “You talked about threats earlier. What threats were made? What did he say would happen if Mr. Bennet opposed him, if Miss Elizabeth did not obey her father’s instructions?”

Miss Elizabeth answered, “You must understand, things were implied rather than said outright. Mr. Wilmington instructed my father to ‘oppose any understanding, any intercourse whatsoever between them, for naturally you wish to be the friend of the Earl of Matlock.’”

Then, while Miss Elizabeth’s brow tightened, Mr. Gardiner continued the account. “That man told Bennet, ‘the Earl is a powerful man, one who rewards his friends and punishes his enemies.’ That was certainly clear enough.”

Miss Elizabeth added, “Mr. Wilmington told Papa that the Earl had many friends that would be watching to make sure Papa did as he was told.”

I watched as Miss Elizabeth wrapped her arms around herself, almost as if she were giving herself a hug. “You tell the next part, Uncle Gardiner.”

“All right,” Mr. Gardiner continued, “Mr. Wilmington then said, ‘I have heard that your daughter Miss Catherine coughs all the time, may have consumption; Miss Bennet has a weak constitution, for a little rain made her bedridden for days; and Mrs. Bennet is liable to faint if she has not her smelling salts.’ And then . . .”

Miss Elizabeth interjected, “Imagine, someone speaking of my family this way. Kitty does not have consumption. She has something akin to the hay fever every autumn. Jane is not sickly for she was soaked through before she arrived at Netherfield and recovered well enough. While my mother may play at fainting . . . she is not weaker than other women; if she were, would she have born all of us?”

Miss Elizabeth fell silent then, although I did not think she was finished. I wondered if she was recalling her twin who had not survived.

Mr. Gardiner told her, “There, there, Lizzy,” and patted her shoulder. “There is nothing the matter with your family.”

She sniffed loudly and then I perceived she might be in some distress. I wished to provide comfort but was not sure what to do.

Mr. Gardiner continued, “Mr. Wilmington noted, ‘It is well that Mr. Jones is a well-respected and skilled apothecary and that your family has loyal servants to tend to them when they become ill. I understand Mrs. Hill has been with you for quite sometimes, but much of your other staff has not been with you long.’

“He also commented on other attributes of the daughters: that Elizabeth is a great walker who ranges far from home, that Mary is absent with her head in a book and that the youngest are very forward with members of the militia, noting specifically Mr. Denny and Mr. Wickham. And then he added, and Mr. Bennet said he recalled this quite exactly, ‘It is a great comfort when children survive their parents and do not bring shame upon their family. How unfortunate it is when one woman’s downfall sinks an entire family’s reputation, makes spinsters of her sisters. But all will be well if you keep Mr. Darcy away from your daughter.’”

I was just considering what all of this could mean when Mr. Gardiner explained, “In him saying such things, I believe Mr. Wilmington was threatening that the servants, save for Mrs. Hill, could be turned against the family, might do something to sicken them, such as administer poison to them, or otherwise harm them. With the mention of Bennet’s youngest daughters and a possible downfall after previously mentioning how forward they are, he thought Mr. Wilmington might be threatening to have a soldier ruin one of them. I think that more likely than poison or a purposeful accident.”

Miss Elizabeth exclaimed, “All of this . . . such threats . . . why, it is like something from a novel!”

“Whether it is like something from a novel or not, I fully understand Bennet’s worry now,” Mr. Gardiner responded.

I told him, “I would not see one hair harmed on Miss Elizabeth’s head, or any harm come to her sisters or her family. It is well, I suppose, that I did not try to call on Mr. Bennet to ask for Miss Elizabeth’s hand, did not give him the opportunity to refuse me.”

Mr. Gardiner shook his head. “I doubt you would have even made it through the door of Longbourn, given the orders Bennet made to the servants. You have been specifically excluded, as have all members of the militia.”

“Oh.” I imagined my humiliation if I had been refused entrance, me the master of Pemberley. “Given all of that, should we even be meeting now?”

Gardiner acknowledged, “Perhaps we should not. You know more of the Earl of Matlock than we do. Would he truly send someone to harm a young woman in such a vicious manner?”

I responded, “The Earl recently made a threat against his own son, my Cousin Edwin, against someone dear to him and he took that threat seriously. If he would threaten his own son . . . ”

Mr. Gardiner nodded, “Well, in any event we are here now. While the oldest Miss Bennets can be counted on to be sensible and Mary to stay at home if she may give into her own natural inclinations, Bennet and I discussed the feasibility of temporarily sending the two youngest Miss Bennets away for their own good. I think he was hoping that I would volunteer to host them, but as I live in London, I told him that would be like sending them straight into the lion’s den and, otherwise, they are too unruly for me to welcome them into our home when my wife is already quite occupied with our own brood.

“Instead, I encouraged Bennet to send them to his younger sister in Hampshire, but he did not think Aunt Bolt would be eager to receive them. Bennet also pondered whether they should be removed from society and placed under the guidance of a governess, but Lizzy, clever as she is, noted that perhaps the Earl would seek to place someone in the bosom of the household in the guise of governess who might take orders from him.”

“Additionally,” Miss Elizabeth added, “even if we could find someone with no possible association with the Earl, Papa is unlikely to take such an action when it will be met with fierce opposition from Mamma, Lydia and Kitty. In the end, I doubt Papa will do more than try to keep my youngest sisters at home more.”

I responded, “Of the threats mentioned, I agree that the gravest threat, save for perhaps one against you, may be the one against your youngest sisters. Forgive me for speaking so of them but given their behavior at Bingley's Ball and at the assembly, the Earl might indeed use George Wickham, or someone like to him as a tool against them.”

Even then I imagined George in his red coat telling one or the other of them (I could not clearly recall which of them was which), “Oh how beautiful you are, you are the loveliest of the Bennet sisters. Come take a walk with me. There is something I would show you behind that building.” I did not want to imagine what he might then do, but it was all too easy to visualize one of them stumbling back into Meryton, her dress ripped, her eye blackened and her virtue stolen, never more fit for marriage. If granted a large enough purse for such a deed, I had no doubt that afterwards he would happily abandon his post and disappear in London.

Another possibly scenario would be a seduction, George would please and flatter her, get her to meet him alone (perhaps in a field, perhaps in the woods) and then use her ignorance against her, make her feel a desire she had likely never felt before, to get her to give what was not his to have, with promises that he loved her and would marry her ere too long. Miss Elizabeth’s sisters were so young; it was not hard to imagine them doing much in the belief that he would soon propose. He might repeatedly meet her, do his best to get her with child and then leave with the rest of the militia.

Perhaps Miss Elizabeth could imagine something similar for her face grew pale for a few moments, but this was soon replaced with a flush of color.

I explained to them, “While the mention of Wickham might simply be based on reports Mr. Wilmingham obtained on the Bennets, it should not be overlooked that Wickham holds a grudge against me. I believe _he_ to be the sort of tool the Earl likes to use as a means of revenge. Doubtlessly the Earl believes I would not wish to associate myself with a family with a ruined daughter, especially if she be ruined by his hand.”

Even as I used the expression “by his hand” I reminded myself that it was not a literal thing, no more than a “fallen woman” was a woman who had fallen down; what George would do would be far worse.

I then asked Miss Elizabeth, "Have you acquainted your father with the particular dangers Mr. Wickham poses?”

She shook her head in negation, "You had not given me liberty to tell him all of this matter and I did not want to expose . . .” she glanced at her uncle and then at me. I knew she was omitting mention of Georgiana.

"This is not the time to hold anything back," I replied. "We need get your father to take this threat seriously; cannot he and your uncle be trusted to keep such matters private? While I know not whether Mr. Wickham might be hired by the Earl, he poses a danger either way."

Miss Elizabeth nodded and replied, "Lydia and Kitty had lately despaired when they learned Mr. Wickham was paying court to a local young lady who recently inherited, a Miss Mary King. However, they rejoiced when she was sent away to stay with her uncle in Liverpool.”

“Her father is a wise man,” Mr. Gardiner interjected.

“Undoubtedly,” Miss Elizabeth responded. “It seems that while I have been away that Lydia and Kitty are frequently in Mr. Wickham's and Mr. Denny's company while hosted by Colonel Forster's wife. She seems as silly as they are and indeed something improper might happen under her auspices. As for discussing the matter with my uncle and father, I have no doubt of their discretion."

I turned toward Mr. Gardiner and acquainted him with how George had sought to elope with my sister. I then excused the two of us from Miss Elizabeth, explaining that what I next needed to tell her uncle was not fit for a lady's ears and moved far enough away that we could still see her, but she could not hear us.

I then proceeded to tell him of George's habits with regards to women and that I thought he would have no compunction in ruining a young woman, either by force or seduction. I explained, “With my sister he was cautious, for Wickham wished her to believe the lie that he loved and respected her, so she would proceed with an elopement and he could capture her dowry and revenge himself on me, but if a young miss does not have a hefty dowry, he would not hesitate to enjoy her charms for a time and then leave her to her shame. Further, if he should learn of my connection to Miss Elizabeth, he might indeed enjoy taking revenge against me in such a way with her sister, or even Miss Elizabeth herself. He might lie in wait for her to take a walk and then do what no man ought."

Mr. Gardiner urged me, “You must caution Miss Elizabeth about all of this. As for me, I will talk to her father.”

It then occurred to me to ask, “Does Mr. Bennet know that we were all meeting today?”

“He knew that I was meeting you, but not that his daughter was, too. I do not countenance Elizabeth deciding to willfully disobey her father, but she told me she would find a way to meet you regardless. Bennet is under the impression that I am meeting with you today solely for the purpose of learning what you might know about the threat the Earl poses and informing you that any understanding betwixt Lizzy and you is at an end. I do not like to be less than forthcoming with Bennet, but his fear was making him less than fully rational.”

When we returned, I told her, "Miss Elizabeth, while I hate to curtail your jaunts around the countryside, it really is not safe for you to be walking alone where someone might find you and seize you at the behest of the Earl. George Wickham certainly cannot be trusted, and I do not doubt that others might be employed by the Earl for nefarious purposes. What if something had happened to you this morning? You certainly must not walk back alone."

She considered, "What you say is quite rational. I do dearly love my walks, but I value my safety more."

Mr. Gardiner clarified, "I am sorry I let her go alone this morning, but there seemed a better chance of her avoiding detection if we left at different times and by different means. It will not happen again," he assured me. “Right Lizzy?”

She nodded and her head remained tilted a bit down.

I addressed my next question to him, "Mr. Gardiner, I understand why you might not want to have your younger nieces in your home, but do you think Mrs. Bolt could be persuaded to host them and that they would be safe with her? I take it she is Mr. Bennet's sister and not yours."

"I have only met her twice," he responded. "She seems very like Mr. Bennet, someone who values her solitude. Her late husband's lands provide her sufficient income through her dower rights but as she had no children upon her death her life estate will expire. She lives in the main house with her nephew’s family so inviting guests may be more difficult than just persuading her."

Miss Elizabeth added, "The militia is to leave for Brighton in less than a fortnight and Lydia and my mother have been endeavoring to persuade Papa to take the family there for the summer. While normally I do not think he would consider such a scheme, he opined that it may be better to remove us from the neighborhood for a time."

Horrified, I replied, "That would never do. At least in your own neighborhood there are those who would seek your welfare while you would be quite at the mercy of strangers there, and if members of the militia act wrongly, they may protect their own. The potential harm to your sisters and you is far greater there."

Mr. Gardiner responded, "I will tell Bennet in no uncertain terms that they are safest remaining here. However, even after the militia decamp, I think my younger nieces may still easily be harmed."

"They need more protection, someone who can be with them always and keep them occupied,” I noted and then thought for a bit. “Is money the primary reason the younger Miss Bennets have no governess?"

"At least in part," Mr. Gardiner answered.

"I can provide the funds," I offered, "and if you think he might accept it better from you than me, I will provide them to you."

Miss Elizabeth shook her head, "I do not believe my father's pride would allow him to accept such a thing from either of you and Kitty at least is past the age of needing a governess."

I was growing frustrated. Every solution I had offered had been found wanting. I could feel the tension building in me and needing some release.

I walked over to a nearby young alder tree and tore a small branch off (the branch was less than a foot and a half long, probably about sixteen inches in length), ripping off a strip of the tree’s bark in the process. This was less satisfying than it could have been, so I walked over to the stone wall next to where I had left the book of poems, set down the branch, removed my gloves and then took up the branch again, running my hands along it, feeling the texture of the leaves (soft new growth) and of the branch and its shoots. I felt myself relax a little.

I walked back towards them and began plucking green leaves off the branch, which I then shredded into smaller bits. It helped. But even as I felt the usefulness to me of what I was doing, I was not sure how it would appear to them.

However, I was able to calmly speak further. "It sounds as if the danger from Mr. Wickham and the militia will be gone soon, so if they could at least be adequately supervised between now and then, it would do much to remedy this danger. Miss Elizabeth, between you and Miss Bennet can you keep them safe from harm?"

"It would be a challenge," she replied, her eyes alighting on what I was doing before sweeping up to my face again, "at times they have slipped out of the house both alone and together, but clearly we could do more than we currently are."

It seemed that I would have to be satisfied with that. Now it was time to address my own plans.

"It has occurred to me, and my sister concurs, that I should endeavor to discover more about the Earl in the hope that this may offer a more permanent solution. My mother kept extensive journals, so I believe I should return to Pemberley to peruse them and then once again visit my aunt, Lady Catherine. Surely his sisters' knowledge could prove useful. However, I am loath to leave if there is anything I could do while in Hertfordshire to help guard your family.”

“I believe,” Mr. Gardiner replied, “that if you leave this place for a time, the Earl may think the matter resolved and he may see no need to do anything further against the Bennets in the interim.”

“Oh, how Mamma will despair when you leave,” Miss Elizabeth remarked. “It will be like Mr. Bingley all over again. Even now she is probably haranguing Papa, insisting over and over that he must certainly call on you or wondering aloud when you will call upon me. For you see, Papa has not declared to Mamma that we cannot marry, will not say anything to her about what transpired with Mr. Wilmington.”

I pictured Mrs. Bennet lecturing Mr. Bennet about how it was his responsibility to call on me. Having never been to Longburn, I could not envision more than a vague setting. However, I could visualize Mrs. Bennet clearly, growing louder and louder in her enthusiasm.

I offered my sister’s suggestion for what else I might do to protect the Bennets before leaving. “Georgiana suggested that if Miss Elizabeth and I stage a public disagreement and she delivers a strong set down which shows we will have no understanding, and then I leave Hertfordshire, this would do much to ensure the Bennet family's safety until I can determine a more permanent solution."

"Would you propose publicly so that I could refuse you? What would you have me do?" Miss Elizabeth twisted her lips. I could not tell if she was amused, offended or curious. "Would you have me say something vastly overblown such as . . . I have never desired your good opinion and your arrogance and conceit have built so immovable a dislike that I had not known you even a month before I felt you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry?"

Even though I knew she did not mean such words and her voice rose at the end to indicate a question, I felt sick to my stomach. What if, indeed, this was what she thought of me? I should have been heart-broken and grown bitter. I felt my fist tighten around the cluster of leaves I had been tearing, felt my jaw clench.

"Mr. Darcy, I could never do such a thing.” Her dark eyes were soft as she shook her head in negation. “For one,” she held up one gloved finger, “I could not believably say such things of you.

“Two,” she held up another finger, “I should not wish to sink you before my friends and family, I want them to know your true value and we are still endeavoring to improve your reputation in Meryton.

“Three, seeing your expression just now, even though I have said this flippantly and in jest, would be too awful to experience. I cannot humiliate you or harm you, I love you far too much.”

“Four and finally,” all her gloved fingers were lifted now, with her thumb tucked across her palm, “I will never deny you, not in truth or in scheme. Such a disguise is fully abhorrent to me. Go away if you must but find a way to return soon, to return to me."

“I have to depart from Hertfordshire, too,” Mr. Gardiner noted. “While I do not like to leave while things are this way, I must return to London tomorrow morning as I have shipments arriving and do not trust my assistant to handle such matters. However, if either of you have need of me, you have my direction, and I will do all I can to come right away.”

Mr. Gardiner and I arranged to meet once more on the morrow at first light, to exchange information before I left for Pemberley and Mr. Gardiner left for London. It was also established that I would speak to Colonel Forster about Wickham and arrange with Mr. Hill that while I was away, we might send letters via him. I clarified, “If you send a letter to Pemberley, it might not reach me before I have already departed from there; therefore I will instruct him on when it would be better to send it to London or Rosings.”

I then turned all my focus toward Miss Elizabeth. “I shall return as soon as I can, but it may take a week or perhaps a fortnight; the distance of the journey to Pemberley is not insignificant, but until I do . . .” I walked over to the stone wall, set down the denuded branch and retrieved the book of poems, “. . . please keep this volume for me, as a token of my esteem.”

I handed the book to Miss Elizabeth and she took it and held it against her breast. Perhaps it was wrong of me to give the book over to Miss Elizabeth as in truth it was not mine to give or lend; it was either Bingley’s or belonged to Miss Bingley.

I recalled the conversation when Bingley bid me not to recite love poetry to his sister (she had tricked me into reading a love poem to her). I remembered how later I had walked around the Netherfield ballroom and in my mind connected each line of Coleridge to Miss Elizabeth. Now, while standing before her, not knowing when I might see her again, I quoted the end of the poem to her. I embraced my beloved through its words as I could not embrace her in fact:

_Miss Elizabeth,_

_You lie in all my many Thoughts, like Light,  
Like the fair light of Dawn, or summer Eve  
On rippling Stream, or cloud-reflecting Lake  
And looking to the Heaven, that bends above you,  
How oft! I bless the Lot, that made me love you._

She took up my bare hand midway through those lines. Once I fell silent, she squeezed my hand three times and then I did the same. I wished dearly that her gloves were off then, that I might feel the warmth of her flesh, the smoothness of her skin.

Those “I love you” squeezes were the last communications we had that day, but for a simple “Goodbye.”

I watched as they walked away, Mr. Gardiner leading his horse. I wondered if I would see her again before I left for Derbyshire. Even after they were gone from my sight, I did not want to leave that place.


	25. Three Meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy meets with Colonel Forster (about Wickham), Mr. Hill (about exchanging letters) and Mr. Gardiner (about updates).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am quickly burning through my mostly edited in advance chapters, so while I will keep my commitment to post an extra chapter tomorrow if you keep up with the reviews, I may only be able to post one chapter for the week (although I will try to get where I can in the interim). My regular posting day is Saturday.
> 
> In my original draft, I made long comments responding to reviewers. I have not been doing that in this draft. However, I do want to comment on a recent discussion in reviews (on fanfiction.com) about whether or not Darcy would like and understand poetry. 
> 
> People with autism have diverse interests and abilities. There are poets who have autism, there are people on the spectrum that enjoy poetry whether or not they write it. Indeed, if a person has a fascination with the written word, rhyme and meter is something that could be particularly appealing, as could memorizing said work. My son was a big fan of Dr. Seuss, for many years past when most kids are.
> 
> A while back I read a blog that I would advise everyone to read which had stuck with me. It reveals the thoughts of a young man being subjected to ABA conditioning against his will for the purpose of "fixing him," where part of what was being done to him was taking his poetry books away. https://theinfiniteofthought.tumblr.com/post/125270426788/aba-session-1-write-up You may see commonalities with how this guy was treated and how Governess Hayes treated Darcy. You may also see commonalities with how Darcy reacted when he found out from Mr. Gardiner that he could not marry Elizabeth.
> 
> While the events this young man described took place five years ago, stuff like this is still happening to kids and adults on the autism spectrum, when the focus should be on supporting them and helping them to achieve their full potential as autistics.
> 
> Yes, I am using the term "autistic" deliberately here even though usually in my notes I use the "people first" language so as to not have to deal with the politically correct police. I use that word here because most people who are on the spectrum see their autism as fundamental to who they are. People can get really hung up on using"correct" terms. Personally I think "autistic" and "person with, or who has, autism" are both fine and I have encouraged my son to decide for himself what terms he wishes to use. He started out with "I have autism" which is what he got at school, but has lately gravitated towards saying "I'm autistic." Rather than worrying about terms, we should put our efforts into how we treat people rather than what we call them.
> 
> We should want to help everyone feel comfortable and take advantage of their own coping mechanisms (whether or not they look "normal" to us), rather than trying to make them look and act in a way that will be most comfortable to us but denies who they are. When people with autism feel respected, understood, loved just as they are, etc., when us neurotypicals are meeting them on their own terms and genuinely interested in who they are and relating to them, they will be happier and more social. It is just a natural consequence of that. If we are attacking, forcing, imposing how they should be on them in the belief that how we are is "the right way" and they are lesser, we demean them and make everything worse.
> 
> A great website (with paid and free content) for parents and others who wish to understand and help in the right way is run by an Aspie (and yes, that is the preferred term for many who identify as having Asperger Syndrome and not a "person with aspergers" even if the DSM V did away with that as a separate category) and was incredibly helpful to me is https://www.aspergerexperts.com/ The materials are geared for those who are high functioning. The discussion of "Defense Mode" explains exactly why the horrible therapy in the blog triggered a melt-down.
> 
> Oh, and by the way, Autism Speaks is a horrible organization. That is a rant for another time, but please don't ever give them money. And, as always, I am available to discuss these and other issues. If you have a profile on fanfiction, you can reach me by PM there.

However, I could neither linger in that field all day nor retreat back into myself as I might wish to do; there was much to be done before leaving Hertfordshire on the morrow. So, I put on my gloves and rode back to Netherfield.

When I returned to the house, I asked after my sister and learned she was still abed. I spent some time addressing practical matters preparing for our departure. I instructed the staff on closing up the house and received confirmation that the sickened tree had been cut down. Then, as my sister had not yet appeared, I decided to waste no more time awaiting her and instead set off to visit George's commanding officer, Colonel Forster.

Although I knew it was necessary to speak to him, the idea of doing so filled me with dread. I felt very alone with no one to ease my way. I missed having Edwin, who would have known just how to approach a fellow officer (though he was in the cavalry), or Bingley who knew Colonel Forster personally. While Bingley and I had dined with the officers, and I was certainly known to him, I had said little at that dinner. The idea of having to initiate such a conversation was highly intimidating.

It is so very difficult to converse with those that I do not know well. I cannot seem to catch their tone or understand whether their words mean what they seem to mean or have another meaning entirely.

As I rode, I tried to rehearse what I should say. I was nervous and worried about how this conversation would go. George always had a glib tongue when I was tongue-tied.

Colonel Forster was perfectly cordial, all the more so when he saw the fine bottle of brandy that I had brought with me as a gift. I recalled he enjoyed a tipple. Perhaps most men did. I was not all that fond of strong drink myself, but I would gain whatever advantage it could bring me.

He offered, “Although it is quite early yet, perhaps we should open it and have a little taste.”

Before I could decline, he was already pouring a glass. When he reached for a second glass I noted, “By all means indulge, but none for me.” He shrugged and then began sipping the brandy. As he drank, I expressed my concerns about George's habits and him spending an excessive amount of time with the younger Miss Bennets.

Colonel Forster listened, poured himself a few fingers more, and then responded, "As for his spending on credit, that report has already been widely circulated and his pay docked when needed. As for the Miss Bennets, why single them out for your protection? Why do you care who Lieutenant Wickham spends time with if their father does not?"

I thought his questions were reasonably enough. Fortunately, I was prepared. "I feel somewhat responsible for Wickham’s behavior as my father employed his father and I have known him since we were children. You see, George was my father’s godson and my father paid for his Cambridge education out of appreciation for his father's faithful service and planned to gift George with a valuable church living.

“Although both of our fathers have gained their eternal reward, it does not reflect well on either of our fathers when Lieutenant Wickham acts the reprobate. For many years he has lived a life free from all restraint, a life of idleness and dissipation. His vicious propensities and want of principle will reflect poorly on the militia and your command in general."

"In that he hardly differs from the others," Colonel Foster commented. "Many men who join the militia lack direction and employment. The militia offers them a chance to advance if they prove themselves. We are not the regulars. I will not judge my soldiers for their past ills so long as they have committed no serious crimes."

"What if they are not past?" I questioned.

"Have you any evidence he persists in such behavior, barring of course his recent slander of yourself?"

I felt a flush of embarrassment. My hands desired to slide across my string, but I had it no longer for I had given it to Miss Elizabeth. However, even had I possessed it, I could not have brought the string forth there. I considered reaching in my pocket to finger Miss Elizabeth’s yellow ribbon instead, but I resisted that temptation. Instead, I ran my fingers along the edge of my coat, but it was not as helpful as having the string would have been.

"Come now, Mr. Darcy, all have heard how he has spoken about you. This conduct does not do him any credit, but I must imagine some childish conflict between the two of you has spurred him to take this action. Things that are obviously untrue cannot truly harm you."

I replied, "I have not been around him since November and know of no actual crimes, but that he lacks a moral compass and will act to line his pockets and corrupt young women, where he can.” I explained, “While I have no fondness for the man, I am not motivated by a childish quarrel but from a desire to protect innocents."

Inwardly, I was feeling foolish that I had not thought to make inquiries and bring evidence of any current nefarious behavior. "Could you not investigate whether he has been acting as he ought? I can make it worth your while."

Colonel Foster considered, "I will ask Captain Carter about his conduct. For that, your brandy is payment enough. However, if he is no worse than his fellows that will be the end of it."

Wishing to seize on anything that could get him to take action, I noted, “I understand that Mr. Wickham is often in your house when Mrs. Foster is entertaining the Miss Bennets. Surely you will want to make sure that proper supervision is always provided in such circumstances.”

He responded, “Yes indeed, Miss Lydia and Miss Kitty are often in the company of my wife and the young officers. It is all done properly for the women all stay together when the men are present. The Miss Bennets add a pleasing liveliness to our entertainment; my wife shall especially miss the company of Miss Lydia when we remove to Brighton. In fact, I just agreed to let my wife invite her to spend the summer with us. There is no harm in Lieutenant Wickham joining in these diversions and being in company with them, but I will make sure to keep an eye on him as I would for any of the men I permit in my home."

I realized I would have to be satisfied with that if I hoped to leave Netherfield on the morrow. I thanked him for his time and left.

Next, I visited Mr. Hill at his shop, which had likely just opened a few minutes earlier. I was pleased when he ushered me into a back room and proudly showed me a crate full of toys that he planned to distribute from my largess. We easily arranged that he would facilitate any needed correspondence between myself and Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and I left my directions with him as well as some additional funds for the post should I need to send a letter via him.

I explained how long I was likely to be in each location but cautioned him to closely guard this information. He acknowledged that he would.

Mr. Hill mentioned, “I hope you do not mind, but when another customer picking up his order also stored in this room inquired about the owner of my crate—for it is unusual for me to collect so many items for one person and they are not packaged as the other parcels I receive are—I told him that they were purchased anonymously for distribution to the poor by a man of consequence.”

I saw nothing particularly amiss in this and told him so. Mr. Hill explained, “In doing so, I intended to do you a favor. The word will spread quickly and soon enough they will guess you are the source. It will provide a reason for my prior visit and any future correspondence as well as improving your reputation and facilitate your efforts to persuade Mr. Bennet to grant you Miss Elizabeth's hand."

I asked, “What do you know about this matter?”

He shrugged and said, "My mother always shares the latest gossip from Longbourn. Apparently, Mrs. Bennet was very vocal in her endorsement, mentioning you were in company in Kent and had surely come to Netherfield to pay court to her daughter, while Mr. Bennet stated he was strongly opposed. My mother believes he is not eager to lose his favorite but that the tide will turn soon enough. Did you think I would facilitate your correspondence with an unmarried miss if I did not think you soon to wed?"

I was quick to reassure him that I would never think such a thing of him. Then I thanked him and left.

I was only able to update Georgiana about what I had learn in the morning after returning from meeting with Mr. Hill. She mostly listened quietly while I discussed the threats against the Miss Bennets.

Later that afternoon, I wrote another letter to Lady Catherine, explaining the further developments which had transpired since my previous letter (there had not been time yet to get any response from her to the prior missive), requesting her support and asked whether she could provide further insight into the Earl. I explained my plan to visit Pemberley and to then visit her.

While I was writing my aunt, I heard my sister playing. She pounded through what should have been a more delicate piece. I recognized the heavy sounds as what she called her “angry playing.” It was clear she was distressed.

When the missive was finally finished, I sought my sister out and then retreated with her to the library. When we were alone, she declared, “It is not fair. I wish we were not related to the Earl! How can one man ruin everything? Have not our lives been difficult enough with losing our parents, with all the difficulties you have suffered, Brother, for being as you are?

“It makes me so angry. Now, when you ought to be free to reap the rewards, to marry Miss Elizabeth as you ought, having selected someone who appreciates your character . . . it should be such an easy thing and it is wrong that it is not. Sometimes I just want to . . . to kick him, to slap him. If I could but be a man, I would show him what I thought of him with my fists.”

Georgiana clenched her fists then, held them up in a fighting stance that was close to correct, and narrowed her eyes by half closing her eyelids. The effect of this was half spoilt by her thin arms, womanly frame and her wide skirt. She simply did not look the part of a pugilist.

“It would not help,” I told her. “Indeed, I have had similar temptations. But even if I could land a blow or two, and the Earl did not have the wherewithal to hit me back immediately . . . surely, he would shout, and his footmen would intervene.” I left unsaid that attacking a peer was a crime, that it might be just the tool he needed to strip me of my rights, prove me unfit.

“I know,” she replied, giving a little sigh.

I do not think that either of us enjoyed our dinner that night. Georgiana and I were quiet and left it to Mrs. Annesley to carry the conversation.

Although I knew I needed my sleep, it was hard to settle myself down that night. The only thing that eventually calmed me was the hope that I might, perchance, see Miss Elizabeth again in the morning if she accompanied her uncle. While I longed to see her, I knew it would not be wise if she were being watched.

While it would hurt to say goodbye to her one more time, it would be one last opportunity to see her, to paint her expressions in my mind, to consider once again what her lovely eyes were like to, bask in her smile and exchange some tender words with her. But I would not get to kiss her again, of that I was certain.

However, the meeting in the morning was disappointing as when Mr. Gardiner galloped up on his horse it became evident to me that Miss Elizabeth would not be in attendance. Mr. Gardiner must have observed my disappointment for when he dismounted, he explained, “I am sorry to arrive at alone, but it is best if Bennet and his daughter appear to be obeying the Earl’s commands.”

Thus, we focused upon business. Mr. Gardiner recounted his discussion with Mr. Bennet about what he perceived as the greatest threat to his family, George and men like him opportuning his youngest daughters. Mr. Gardiner noted, “Lydia was invited to accompany Mrs. Forster to Brighton, but I was most vehement in opposing such a scheme, explaining once again the danger of letting any go to Brighton.”

I told him about my conversation with Colonel Forster, learning that his wife had invited Miss Lydia to accompany them. “I think he is not a diligent guardian of his new wife; I do not think he would guard Miss Lydia as he ought.”

“I have only met Colonel Forster once, over my Christmas visit,” Mr. Gardiner responded, “but I had a similar impression of him.

“As to Bennet, I despaired at first as to whether I might make any headway with him beyond getting him to refuse permission for Lydia to make such a trip. For as we discussed yesterday, I think it important that some real protection be put in place for the youngest Bennets. I am afraid I hounded my brother mercilessly until Bennet finally agree that he would hire someone to tend to the youngest girls for a few months. Elizabeth will see that it gets done. It is my hope that once someone is in place, it may become a permanent arrangement.

“Unfortunately, I was not able to convince Bennet that Lydia and Kitty be removed from society. He does not wish to deal with complaints from his wife and those daughters. He will hire a companion, with the understanding that she will have some duties more usually ascribed to a governess. She will naturally supervise and teach, will accompany them to outings in a supervisory capacity; she will serve in something like the capacity of a spinster aunt. In the interim, the eldest daughters shall supervise the younger. Such an arrangement is already underway to many grousing complaints.”

I was very pleased that finally some progress was being made. However, I noted an immediate concern that occurred to me. “My only worry is that somehow the Earl will seek to influence for ill whomever is hired. Might I suggest that my aunt, Lady Catherine of Kent, might know of suitable prospects?”

“Ah, you think like to my niece. Elizabeth has already written her with such an inquiry.” I was pleased to see that Miss Elizabeth and I were of one mind. My aunt would be glad to be of use. I had a vague recollection of tedious conversations in which she praised herself for placing a Miss Pope with a family. I could not quite recall, but I believed she had helped arrange employment for more than one Miss Pope over the years.

I thanked Mr. Gardiner for all his assistance and soon enough our meeting was at an end, with him bound directly for London thereafter, and me and mine bound for Pemberley a little later that morning.


	26. Home to Pemberley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy, Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley make the journey back to Pemberley along the route Darcy has chosen. Once there, Darcy is subjected to nightmares involving his mother's correspondence and journals. In the morning, he learns from Mrs. Reynolds about Nurse Storey's fate since she left the Darcys' employ.

The trip to Pemberley took two days. We left late on the morning of the 12th of May, with us arriving late on the 13th rather than taking the three days I normally allow when traveling with my sister. Given that I wanted us to arrive as swiftly as possible, while Georgiana was occupied with last minute matters, I reviewed all the possible routes in my mind, left myself take the twists and turns I had learned from my maps and my own travels, immediately eliminating those which were too rough for a carriage and had no decent inn along a midpoint and a fair one for the night.

Too, I eliminated routes which would not have convenient intervals for switching horses, making sure the first location for such a switch was such that it would be well to return that way, as I would have to pay for the board of our own, and retrieve them when returning along that route. As I had the funds to spare, I was willing to take the most expensive of toll roads when it was the most expedient.

Once we set out, I took the lead when there was any doubt for the coachman driving the lead carriage as to what route we should take. I do not know what Mr. Mills thought of my officiousness in deciding the route myself when he would normally be expected to decide the route and had consulted a map while waiting for us to set off and I had consulted none. I told him, "Mr. Mills, I know the route I would have us go" and recited which roads, passing through which towns and the inns at which we would stop. It was all laid out so clearly for me in the vivid map in my mind, of which I always relied upon, which was ever changing as my travels added to it, that I was confident in my choice.

He tried to gainsay me, pointing to the route he would have chosen, tracing the line for me on his map. I told him, "That map is no good, for it does not have the latest toll roads and you would not know from it that this road is often too muddy to make good time and this other one had not received any gravel for some time. When we are back at Pemberley, I shall get you a better map, one which is less inferior and out-of-date." I planned, you see, to get him one of the latest ones and then correct it with my superior knowledge. I believe he did not like that I had made my own decision on our route, but I was not of a mind to care as I knew I was right and he was wrong.

I was well pleased with the first leg of our journey. All had gone as I expected. I had just arranging for which horses we would hire (I did so while my coachman arranged for the boarding of our own, as I preferred to look over especially the horse I might ride myself and decide on a team for my sister's carriage), and returned to Georgiana's carriage to speak to her for a few minutes before we set out again when she told me, "Have you heard? It was all that any at the inn could talk about, the Prime Minister, Spencer Perceval, has been assassinated."

Of course I immediately had questions for her, but she had none of the answers, but to tell me the deed had occurred in the lobby of the House of Commons and that he had been shot. While I wished for further details, I also wished to return to the road and so keep up our pace and the later impulse won out. However, as I rode along, I found myself wishing I had learned more, for rather than considering how awful such an event was for the whole country, I spent the remaining half a day's ride wondered if there was any way to tie this to the Earl.

I was well pleased with the route I had chosen for the remainder of that first day, but for some mud along some twenty miles. However, as there had been rain in the area, likely all our routes would have had mud, likely more beside.

However, upon reaching the inn for our overnight stay I was troubled that it was in less good condition than what I had remembered from staying there some three years prior. There were some bricks missing from the lower portion of the building and the carriages outside of it bespoke of travelers who were low of funds for they were chipped and scarred. One, which still had its team attached, was made up of mismatched horses. Neither were they well matched in size or in color.

These details were nothing to me, I would stay anywhere to gain Pemberley sooner, but I was concerned for my sister. But as it was some thirty miles to the next accommodation that I would deign to take my sister to stay, it would have to do and indeed my sister was most gracious about it, saying between yawns as she stepped down from the carriage, "It will have a bed and that is all I care about now; I will have Mrs. Annesley stay in my same room and I shall be quite safe."

I spent a few minutes in the common room, asking the barkeep what he knew about the assassination. He was a gregarious fellow and over the pint that I barely sipped he told me all he knew and I learned from him that it appeared John Bellingham had acted alone. In any event, I knew I could never stoop so low as to arrange to implicate the Earl in a crime he did not commit, had I even a notion as to how to go about it.

I was so exhausted that I was barely in bed before I fell asleep. This was despite the state of the bed, which was lumpy and had an odd sour smell as if someone had been sick upon it and the efforts to clean it had been negligible. I had not discovered either ill with this bed until I awoke the following morning sore in places that had nothing to do with riding and, turning to get a bit of relief, found my nose bombarded with that most unfortunate odor. If I dreamed, I recalled nothing of it.

On the second day's ride, the route was unremarkable and we made good time. As we traversed mile after mile, I began to imagine what I might find in Mother's journals. Did the Earl have any deep secrets from his childhood? Was there anything that might embarrass him if it came to light that might be enough to keep him at bay? Much that he did now was excused because he was a wealthy peer, so how awful would something have to be to have any effect on him now?

I began to feel a certain hopelessness. What if the journey was all for naught? What if by leaving I had left Miss Elizabeth and her family more vulnerable?

I was quite tired as the day went on as I was not used to spending so many days in the saddle and our stops were brief, only to refresh ourselves and eat. We were guided by moonlight along the last few miles to Pemberley, our departure on the morning of the second day not being as quick as I would have wanted and our stops less efficient than they could have been.

While I had previously written my staff to expect our arrival, they did not know exactly when it would be. However, as we had eaten at the last inn, it was not much of an inconvenience for them. Georgiana told me when I helped her down, "Brother, I am exhausted. I hope you will not mind if I retire for the night." Of course I did not mind as gaining my bed was the first concern to me, also. I did not even let Jeffrey draw me a bath. Instead I used the basin and the bowl to wipe away sweat and dust, and oh how the water in the bowl grew dark with detritus from my ablutions.

Though it was late, and my body was ready to rest when clothed in a clean nightshirt and beneath the covers, my mind was not ready to be still. Having had now two days of hard travel, I expected to fall asleep with similar rapidity when back in my own bed at Pemberley as I had the night before, yet that did not happen. Thoughts of how to defeat the Earl's machinations and get him to leave me and mine alone continued to plague me even as I lay upon the soft, clean bed.

Oftentimes, I felt on the verge of sleep only to see the Earl's face, his lips moving as he lectured me about my duty to the family or George Wickham's face as he taunted me, calling me "Bitsy" and other such things. Perhaps these were dreams, perhaps they were not, but each time I startled, tried to block such images from my head and had to attempt to settle myself down again.

When I finally drifted off, hours it seemed after I had first taken to my bed, my sleep was fragmented. In one dream I was looking through a large box of my mother’s letters, yet everything I unfolded was either blank or written in a script that my eyes could not focus upon. Sometimes I could make out a word or two, but never enough to get the gist of what the writing was about. Mostly I just saw what might have been, "Fitzwilliam" and "Georgiana" but even these things were difficult to read.

When I saw the Earl's name, or rather the sense of his name, I squinted strongly, trying to make out the surrounding script, but it was useless, somehow my eyes were weak. I located a basket containing many quizzing glasses, but something was wrong with each of them: the lens was missing, the lens was cloudy, the lens was fractured and so on.

In another dream my mother's journals were all soaking in a large copper wash tub. "They were old and dusty, so I cleaned them for you," said a young laundress, her dark hair bound in braids. She was much too young for such work but seemed familiar somehow.

The tub smelled strongly of lye, a metallic scent that bothered me. The laundress was mangling the journals with a washing bat. I knew she had added too much lye, that the fumes were a danger to sight, and it would burn my hands to reach into the water, but I knew that if I did not retrieve the journals they would certainly be ruined, for even then I could see the ink running, streaks of black weaving through the water, fading to dull grey as they spread.

I reached my hands in to seize the nearest journal with a brown leather cover. As my hands became submerged in the caustic water, I could feel my hands burn and blister. Large boils grew on them and then they burst, expelling yellow pus. However, I remained determined.

While I managed to grab a journal, it felt as if it were attached to an anchor; I could not raise it to the surface. Finally, I gave up on that one and grabbed at another. I saw my fingers, which were wrapped around it, dissolving, bones emerging from the ends of each digit, but at least this journal came out of the water.

I opened it and the pages only contained streaks of ink. I looked back at the tub and saw that all the journals were breaking apart, the pages crumbling into small blobs, leaving only the bindings. Then I woke up.

It was morning, but early yet, too early to summon Jeffrey to attend me. As I lay abed recalling the dreams, first I speculated about whether what I had dreamed about the laundering process shared any truth with how it was done. I recalled as a boy running through the room as the laundry was being washed, Nanny Storey pursuing me, but knew little of the process, could really only recall the smell of the lye.

Then, I considered from where I knew the young laundress. I did not think she was in my employ as I did not employ anyone nearly so young. I then considered whether she might be the child of one of my tenants but could not place her when I reflected on those families.

Finally, it came to me; she looked like the beggar girl from London to whom I had thrown the coins, if such girl had been neat and clean. I wondered what had become of her and her brother. I tried to put aside thinking of them and focus on the meaning of such dreams instead, but their faces continued to intrude. I said to myself, as if addressing them, “I would help you if I could, but I do not know where you are.”

Then I was able to think on the rest of the dream, and the one before it. Oftentimes, I would tell my sister Georgiana about my dreams and let her interpret them. But the meaning of these dreams was obvious, even to me. I was worried that seeking answers in my mother's journals and letter would prove to be futile.

Although I tried to sleep further, additional restful sleep eluded me despite my weariness. I may have fell asleep for a few minutes here or there, but I felt no better for it. Accordingly, I determined I would get up and find something to do within my chambers.

I arose in my nightshirt and walked to my wardrobe (I could not see it well in the dark, but I knew it was there, knew its contents very exactly). After locating the handles by feel, I opened the door, knelt, and retrieved a hinged wooden box from the right back corner and brought it back to my bed.

I sat down and lifted the lid. Inside, my eager fingers found what I had been seeking; at the front right end, set aside from its fellows by virtue of being on top, I found coiled string which I grabbed. I set the box down beside my bed against the wall and then slipped back under the covers with the string in my hands. My fingernails began the task of picking loose the end which had been wrapped around the looped string and tied, undoing it easily enough as I had done countless times.

The string in my hands, which was now unbound, was a close match to the piece of string I had carried in my pocket for so many years before I gifted it to Miss Elizabeth, or at least what that string would have once been like. That piece is exactly thirteen inches long (or it was when I first received it), a dull brownish-grayish color, frayed and worn, while the string in my hands was a bit rougher, had not been worn smooth from much handling and had kinks from how it had been bent while stored. It was also a much longer piece, six feet long (a fathom if measuring the depth of sea, two yards as in a quantity of fabric, seventy-two inches). I knew that I could wrap it a little more than nine times around my wrist, seven times around my ankle.

While this piece was not my beloved piece, in being somewhat like my favorite it was more soothing than most. I felt at ease knowing it was safe at Pemberley and now I reveled in being able to feel the string’s fibers, to run my fingers along it, to weave it through my fingers. I did these same things again and again, and eventually I fell back asleep. If I dreamed then, I did not recall it upon awaking.

I awoke late, but put the string away before summoning Jeffrey. I was eager to find a solution to the problems I had ridden to Pemberley to seek.

After breaking my fast, I asked after Mrs. Reynolds, bid that she be instructed to see me in my study. I had only begun to review the correspondence that awaited me there, when she knocked, entered, and greeted me warmly.

Before I could ask after my mother’s journals, Mrs. Reynolds noted, “In your last letter you asked whether I might be able to locate Nurse Storey’s whereabouts from your mother’s correspondence.” Though that was not the topic utmost on my mind, I was indeed eager to learn if she had any such information for me.

“In fact, I had no need to do so as those many years ago it was I who was tasked by the master with helping Nurse Storey find another situation and making arrangements for her in the meantime. Madam wished Nurse Storey to stay at Pemberley until new employment was found for her, but Mr. Darcy wanted her gone immediately so as not to interfere with Governess Hayes and paid for her to be lodged in Lambton for the following month.”

I was glad to hear that Nurse Storey was not simply dismissed and left to find her own way.

“The master also offered to pay for her services to be advertised with an agency in London if need be but in the end that did not prove necessary. Instead, Lady Anne wrote to Lady Catherine about the matter and Lady Catherine knew just the family that required a nurse and Nurse Storey settled in Kent.”

I nodded. My mother and Lady Catherine would not have wanted Nurse Story to have any but the most proper employer and situation. It was simply who they were.

“Nurse Storey and I kept up a correspondence. We began by exchanging perhaps half a dozen letters a year, although over the years this has dwindled and I believe I have yet to receive a reply to my latest letter, sent just after the last harvest.

“She served the family Lady Catherine matched her with for a few years and then went onto employment with Captain Lightholder in Ramsgate and is there still. He served with the Royal Navy, had been at Trafalgar and most recently transported troops from the port of Ramsgate to and from France to battle Napoleon.”

“Is she happy there? Has she many children under her care?” I asked.

Mrs. Reynolds smiled and said, “Yes, Nurse Story seems very fond of that family. Tis a large family which expanded in the intervening years. Nurse Storey was hired when the fourth child was born and I believe the captain and his wife have nearly a dozen children, perhaps more, by now. Her letters are always cheerful and full of the antics of her young charges, and with the subsequent arrivals more and more staff have been added.

“Nurse Storey is always modest in describing her place in this household, but from what I can gather, she manages a large staff overseeing them all, but still continues to care for the children personally. She writes of enjoying rocking all the babies and teaching the children their first letters and numbers.”

I gave Mrs. Reynolds to understand how pleased I was that Nurse Story appeared to be happy and well appreciated.

Mrs. Reynolds gave a little sniff then and said, "Nurse Storey always asked me about the young master and I passed on bits of news about how you were doing; even after your father passed on and you inherited the estate, she could not seem to remember to ask about Mr. Darcy, you were always the young master to her."

It made me happy to think that my dear nurse had never forgotten me. I regretted, however, that I had never thought before to inquire after her. All the times I had visited Lady Catherine, I might have made a side trip to see her on her day off. I might have even passed her on the street when I met my sister at Ramsgate. Mrs. Reynolds gave me her direction and I resolved to write her the next day.

However, as pleasant as this news was, I was still eager to peruse my mother’s journals, so I directed Mrs. Reynolds to assign staff to locate all of my mother's journals and correspondence. “I imagine that there must be an important purpose in such a request,” she told me, “for you to return to the country and look over her writings before even meeting with your steward.” However, she did not ask what I was about.

Instead, Mrs. Reynolds told me, "I have carefully saved all of it for you and Miss Darcy; I believed you would want these dear memories someday."


End file.
